


to be near you.

by torrancing



Series: Shine With Me [2]
Category: Doctor Sleep (2019), Doctor Sleep - Stephen King, Supernatural, The Shining (1980)
Genre: (In reference to past abuse of demon blood), Abra is actually Dan's niece, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Asexual Character, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Getting to Know Each Other, Healing, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Movie Night, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam Shines, Sam has ADHD, Slow Burn, Therapeutic Use of Powers, Trauma, Using Shine/Psychic Powers to Heal Emotionally, but make it a kinnie fic wink wink, grown men being soft as hell, ish, they are both acespec because I said so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torrancing/pseuds/torrancing
Summary: A stranger comes to Frazier. Dan Torrance lived after the Overlook and returned to his quiet life as best as he could. Stranger, meet Dan, and promptly fall in love.akaThat one where Sam Winchester retires to Frazier, New Hampshire for the quiet but gets love and healing and the quiet is just a bonus.
Relationships: Dan "Danny" Torrance/Sam Winchester
Series: Shine With Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987096
Comments: 14
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a joke and was kind of cracky, but here I am! Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment, perhaps..
> 
> playlist made for sam and dan (I'm open to suggestions!): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4FB3F9NKNHIpxmIFaVI1Nm?si=UxrzFloMQhOimkzn-hjc_Q
> 
> ko-fi: dumbheathen  
> insta: tcnyyy  
> discord: azzie#0166  
> twitter: VO1Drent

The man was new in town, no doubt about it. Frazier was small enough that after a decade of living there, Dan could easily tell who lived there and who didn’t. The man was walking towards Teenytown from the bus stop, a large, green duffel over his shoulder, and Dan could feel a shift in the air once he allowed himself. The weather wasn’t hot, but it was on the warmer side; the sun was out and shining down on everything comfortably, but the man was wearing more layers than Dan.

Dan furrowed his brows and took off his conductor’s hat and listened to the children in the replica town play as the man approached, having obviously spotted Dan just as well as Dan had spotted him. He wondered if this is how Billy felt when they first met, when Billy was in charge of Teenytown, when Billy helped get a stranger’s life straight.

He got the feeling that this man _was_ running from something, coincidentally enough. Finding out what, if at all, was postponed, as he was right in front of Dan now. He looked a little more sheepish up close, which made him self-conscious of his own demeanor. He cleared his throat to speak, but the man spoke first.

“Hey-” a cleared throat, “I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction? I’m not familiar with the area, you know, Doc?” The man chuckled to himself and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, up under almost-shoulder-length brown hair. Dan couldn’t help but smile when the man did before he realized what he had said.

The man had called him Doc. He only heard the name in the hospice and… He shook his head and cleared his throat again. He remembered to introduce himself. He held his free hand out to shake his, the hand holding his hat scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, you look fresh off the bus if I had to guess,” Dan admitted, taking the man’s hand and shaking it, sure to mind his business in doing so, “Dan Torrance.” It was hard to do. Touching the man and just feeling what was underneath without listening in was a lot. It felt like pink, scarred over flesh that had been healing for years. Dan swallowed the feeling down, feeling an uncomfortable mixture of warmth and a dirtiness he hadn’t felt in what would never be long enough.

This man shined at some point. Years and years ago. Maybe he didn't even know it.

“Sam. Sam Winchester,” Sam said, pulling Dan from his thoughts just in time to notice the look on his face before Sam was putting his bag down to properly talk without having to adjust it every few seconds. When it was temporarily discarded, he straightened up and Dan could see that his posture before had taken a few inches off the top. He was amused by the irony that such a large man was shy and almost nervous to interact with a stranger. He didn’t know this was the first time in a long time that Sam willingly, without lying first or for a case, introduced himself to a complete stranger.

It wasn’t as liberating as Sam had hoped. Retirement wasn’t supposed to be anxiety-inducing, but here Sam was, putting himself out there in some way with this man in the hopes that he wouldn’t recognize his name and that he was kind enough to help. 

The man couldn’t have been much older than Sam. Well, not much older than Dean. He looked like he preferred to keep to himself and had seen far too much in his life. He knew the look well, and he wished he felt bad about feeling comfort at the realization. He wasn’t bad looking either, blue eyes, softer spoken, reddish-brown hair.

“Well, Sam, if- if you’re willing to wait, there are a few empty rooms in my building and my shift ends in half an hour. But if you aren’t,” Dan shifted on his feet and cast a protective glance at the group of children as a cursory check before looking in the direction he pointed, “It’s just a block up that road, has a light blue sign with little flowers.” It made Dan’s chest tight to potentially offer Billy’s old room up to this stranger, it’d only been a little over a year and a half since their run-in with The Knot, and he tried not to think too hard about the loss of his best friend or the thought of liquid fire followed close behind.

Sam smiled wide and put his hands up, shaking his head, “I think I’ll stick around if that’s fine.” Dan nodded and ran a hand over his hair, putting his hat back on and wordlessly walking away with only a small wave. The feeling from touching him the first time still hadn’t ceased, a sludgy filth crawling up his spine and dissolving into something icy hot before settling in his tummy. He preferred to keep his nose out of it, so he waved farewell-for-now instead of gently clapping his shoulder as he’d almost considered. He easily got back into the motion of interacting with the kids, running the last roundabout of the train.

It was easier to talk to children. They had lower expectations, most of the time. Plus, they seemed to take to him as well, always being able to tell what was wrong if they were upset, crouching down to talk to them at eye level. Sam could see Dan help a little that had tripped in her excitement up off of the ground from where he sat on a bench, turned around and watching his soon-to-be-neighbor.

Sam smiled at the sight and checked his phone. Still dead. It had died hours before on the bus, so he didn’t know why he thought checking it would change that fact. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and shook his hands at the wrists a few times before decidedly shoving those, too, into his pocket, tapping his knuckles against the fabric.

Half an hour passed slowly for Sam, quickly for Dan. All the children were picked up by their respective family members and the Teenytown train was closed for the night. Dan had taken the hat off and folded it into his jacket pocket before tucking his hands into the ones in his jeans. The hem of his shirt tickled his wrists gently, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He cleared his throat to get Sam’s attention. His fingers were bouncing rapidly against his thighs, head back when he walked up.

Sam brought his head up quickly and laughed nervously at having been caught. Caught doing what, Dan wasn’t sure what he thought it was, but Dan was caught off guard at how the look on Sam’s face made him look, well…

He cleared his throat again, effectively interrupting his own thought process, giving Sam time to pick up the large duffel bag once more. Dan would have offered to help him if it wasn’t for the mental and physical exhaustion of work catching up to him and the anxiety of feeling what he had the first time he touched Sam, wanting to avoid it for now. Sam didn’t attempt a conversation with Dan and Dan could feel his anxiety. He wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t partly his own.

On the way to Mrs. Robertson’s door, he explained, in, all likelihood, the most awkward way he could, “I’d stick around while she gives you the tour, but I have work at one, so sleep is quickly be- becoming more necessary,” he almost left it at that before he realized that Sam would likely wonder what he meant if what they had just come from was supposedly Dan’s job, so as Sam opened his mouth to do just that, Dan interjected, “I- I work at the hospice. I’m an orderly there, and. and work the graveyard shift and run a few shifts at Teenytown just to help out.”

Dan wanted to sink into his bed already. It wasn’t like stumbling over his words or getting nervous was foreign to him, but he hadn’t felt actual embarrassment over either in years. Sam grinned and nodded, “I get it. I used to have a pretty hectic work schedule. Maybe I’ll catch you around sometime?”

It was a question. Dan hesitated to nod but found himself doing so anyway. He untucked his hand from his pocket to give the man a little wave as he had before in the park.

Dan didn’t see Sam more than in passing for another week.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam moved into the room below Dan’s and spent most of his time in there for the first few days, finally venturing out and getting a feel for the town. Everybody was more or less welcoming, if not neutral to his existence, not that he minded too much. He ran into Dan twice on his morning jogs during the week, when Dan was dressed in scrubs and walking home with his messenger back strap clutched in his hands.

He could feel the waves of sadness and… something else coming off of him. If raw emotion had a smell, it would be Sam’s best guess. There was just something about the man that struck Sam. His tired eyes said enough, so Sam never kept him long when they ran into each other, no matter how much he wanted to.

He didn’t know what it was. There was something about Dan Torrance that made Sam perk up. He found himself almost hoping that they’d run into one another, despite the wave of something _wrong_ that washed over him when they shook hands. Not wrong, no. Something different, something raw.

He wasn’t sleeping well. Same hours as when he and Dean stayed on the road, a solid four a night, but it always ended in nightmares and cold sweats. He’d underestimated just how much he’d prioritized to the bottom of the list when he was hunting, always throwing as much of himself and his attention into a case as he could. It saved lives, but what was left for him but feeling used up and scraped off of the pavement? He’d sacrificed- Guilt overtook the next thought before it could find its way into fruition.

But Sam wasn’t sleeping well.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan had the weekend off. When he woke up in the afternoon on Saturday, earlier than he at all wanted but not minding the extra time to himself later in the day, he took a shower and got dressed for the day. He’d promised, and looked forward to, spending the day with Abra. His niece was the closest thing to a best friend that Dan had, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t complain.

He gave himself a once-over in the mirror, hands smoothing over his red sweater, trying to get the wrinkles out of the collared shirt underneath showing through above the soft fabric. He easily ignored his gait in the mirror, how shy he looked even in the privacy of what he considered to be his home.

He didn’t check his phone, instead closing his eyes. It didn’t take nearly as much focus as it used to.

“Abra?”

“Uncle Dan? You’re up early.”

Dan chuckled and shook his head, “Guess I was looking forward to seeing my favorite niece.”

“I’m your only niece,” Abra rolled her eyes and leaned over where she sat, pulling on her shoes. Dan put his hands in his pockets and watched her patiently.

“Does my _only_ niece mind if I come by early? We can catch the 3 o’ clock instead of the 5, if you want,” He asked, shifting on his feet. She shrugged and smiled.

“I don’t mind. Get here quickly and maybe we can get ice cream after?” Dan grinned and nodded. He’d wanted to surprise her with the after-movie treat, but there were little to no surprises between them. And he was okay with that.

“You’re going to lose this time,” Dan said, eyebrow raised. He knew she wouldn’t and that he always got brain freezes too quickly when eating the frozen treat, even as a child, so competing with the teenager every time to see who could get through their cone faster and losing was just becoming tradition at this point.

“Whatever you say, Dan,” Abra smirked at him and gave him a little wave, wagging each of her fingers in a row and Dan was back in his room, grabbing his keys and wallet before leaving, locking the door behind him.

Dan walked down the stairs of the building, from second to first floor, and looked down into his wallet, taking out a twenty before tucking the wallet into his back pocket. As he looked up, he ran into somebody coming out of their room.

“S- I’m so sorry, are you-” Dan looked up and blinked, laughing nervously when he saw that it was Sam. He glanced at the door, then up at the ceiling, realizing he lived right under Dan. Sam put a hand on Dan’s shoulder and squeezed, laughing on the side of genuine compared to Dan’s anxiety. For that split second, Dan’s smile was taken away, replaced with the falter of feeling things that weren’t his. Mixed with the scraped raw healing that he felt before, there was a bubbling anxious-excitement. He blinked and it lingered when Sam pulled his hand away.

“No, no- It’s fine, Dan, really,” He assured, eyebrows turning up with concern.

“Yeah- Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Dan nodded, clearing his throat and holding the twenty in both of his hands, feeling his face warm up without reason. Sam was staring at him, scratching the back of his neck. Dan could still feel the excitement on him, that anxiety one gets when they are hopeful but unsure.

“Did. Did you need something?” Dan asked, his turn to give concerned eyebrows. Sam seemed taken aback, the corner of Dan’s mouth curling up slightly in amusement. He didn’t look down at his hands when he saw Sam’s arms shaking slightly, but he could ,make out that he was wiggling them at the wrists.

“I was uh. I was wondering if there was anywhere around here to eat and if- if,” Sam was backtracking, trying to come up with something other than what he’d originally wanted to ask. Dan didn’t need to listen in, but it took him embarrassingly long to realize on his own.

“There- There’s a diner in the square,” Dan said, leaning in to continue as if it were a secret, “But the next town over has a few restaurants and fast food joints.” Sam smiled wide, raking a hand through his hair. Dan caught his dimples and had no choice but to smile as well.

“Would you-”

“I’d like that, Sam, but. I- Well, I have a movie date to catch with my-”

“Got it, no need to-” Sam was ready to be rejected, or at the very least accept his rejection as gracefully as he could.

“Niece,” Dan laughed unexpectedly, wondering how _Sam_ was the more nervous between the two of them now. Dan’s hands were trembling out of sight, crumpling the bill between his fingers, so he figured he was just hiding it better. He understood now that the nerves Sam was feeling was just to ask Dan to get food with him, and his reaction to Dan’s verbal misstep was enough to draw conclusions. His stomach twisted up and wrung up and caught butterflies and caterpillars as he found that he wasn’t opposed to the idea of it, but he hadn’t dated in the better part of a decade and the closest, most recent thing that could be considered a date…

“Niece.”

Dan nodded and pushed the now-crumpled bill into his pocket, scrubbing his palm over the nape of his neck, his hair tickling it gently.

“So. Well. Would you consider a raincheck?” Sam asked hopefully. Dan listened in for only a second, letting his paranoia get the best of him, but the only thing he could hear was layers and layers of whispering, the loudest train of thought, the one closest to the surface, was Sam’s hopes that Dan would agree, and close behind that was insecurity.

“I- I’m free tomorrow if you are.”

Sam’s dimples made a solid, confident reappearance, and Dan welcomed them warmly. Well, the insects in his stomach did. They buzzed and fluttered across the lining of his organs and he wondered in passing when the last time a single person made him feel this way.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Doc,” Sam nodded, dimples never leaving, even as he checked one pocket then the other, a light pink dusting over his cheeks as he did so. He pulled a slip of paper from the second pocket and handed it over. Dan took it and thumbed over the folded paper. It was in a perfect square, even the ragged torn edge folded neatly into the shape.

“Tomorrow, Sam,” Dan nodded, not hesitating when he gave the younger man’s shoulder a squeeze as he passed by. He pushed past the feeling he’d come to associate with him, feeling only warmth and something softer.

He smiled as he stepped onto the bus, as he walked to his seat, as he looked out the window.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan thought of Sam during the movie. It wasn’t normally the genre he’d prefer, an action movie that Abra had chosen that he couldn’t make himself focus on. So he thought of Sam. The longer he thought of him, the more the harrowing realization that he could have drastically misread the situation made itself known. A ~~handsome~~ stranger blows into town, friendly, shy, alone, warm, and Dan must have gotten his hopes up at some point, because the possibility of having so badly read a situation made his stomach twist up again.

As Dan and Abra left the theater, heading to the ice cream shop up the street, Abra stared at him.

“Who’s Sam?”

Dan felt like he’d been interrupted. He furrowed his eyebrows and stayed silent for a moment.

“He- Well, he’s new in Frazier. He, y’know, got off the bus a few days ago and settled,” Dan indulged, shrugging.

“Is he the one that moved into the room under yours?” Abra asked, like she had been wondering for much longer than the length of the conversation. Dan stopped in his tracks and so did she. He raised an eyebrow at her, knowing she couldn’t exactly control it all of the time, but he was curious as to what it was about the man that made her aware of this.

“I’ll take that as a yes-”

“Does he shine?” Dan asked, wanting, no, needing a second opinion to confirm his silent suspicions. He didn’t really believe in coincidence, but he respected it as a phenomenon, so all of the little details that would make him think Sam shined, all the little feelings, couldn’t just be coincidence if Abra knew which room Sam had moved into.

She nodded.

“I think so. Though, I’m not sure he was, well. Born with it? It doesn’t feel like it was his to begin with, but maybe it was. Just maybe enhanced by something else,” Abra tried to explain. Dan furrowed his eyebrows and ignored the feeling of cold, melted ice-cream dripping down the back of his hand.

“Do you think-”

“No. No, I don’t think he’s one of them, Uncle Dan,” She assured him. He didn’t think so either, but he’d never felt a person like Sam, who shined but didn’t shine. It shouldn’t have mattered much to him anyways, as long as Sam wasn’t part of The True Knot. It didn’t matter.

It kind of mattered. He shifted on his feet and they began walking again. The walk back to the bus stop was pleasant, if anything. The sky was red and pink, tinged with purple on the edges of his peripherals, and the streets weren’t very active. They stayed quiet on the bus back to the Stone’s house, but as Abra stood up to get off, she patted Dan on the shoulder, interrupting his thoughts once more.

“I think he likes you, too,” She hummed, kissing the side of the top of his head. He stood up and hugged his niece, pushing her head gently as a show of faux annoyance that she’d listened in, as if he wasn’t thinking loudly enough for her to do so without trying.

“Yeah, we’ll see. Tell your mom I said hello,” Dan smiled and sat as she made her way off the bus, waving one last time from the sidewalk as the vehicle pulled off and the short journey home began.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sleeping, for Sam, came with restlessness and nightmares. He curled up as tightly as he could, sweating through the sheets and panting like an almost-drowned man. Tonight was no different. Scenarios played out in his weary skull, mixing memories with insecurities with brain-generated-just-for-him images.

Most of the time, he saw death.

They, everyone he knew, never just died in his nightmares. That would be too tame. No, they berated him, blamed him, looked up at him in fear. He was always covered in them, the blood and viscera of the people he cared about most in the world. But tonight was special, if special was a word that could be applied to a regular occurrence that usually buried itself among the other abhorrences.

Tonight was hellfire and touches that he couldn’t scrub hard enough to remove. Tonight was condescending “Sammy”s and burning flesh and invisible scars.

Sam’s body twisted against the mattress a little too violently and he hit the floor hard, jolted from his sleep. He couldn’t say he was too disappointed. The floor was better than _him_. Anything was better than _him_.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan waking up abruptly, on the floor, covered in sweat and staring at the very small distance between his dresser and how close he came to a concussion, was unexpected to say the least. He groaned as he got to his feet, blinking at his bed and the large sweat spot in the sheets.

“Uncle Dan?” Abra’s voice was sudden and loud, worried. He flinched and rubbed his eyes, turning on his lamp to better see his niece now standing at the side of her own bed. It was in a similar state of dishevelment.

“Did I wake-”

“That was your nightmare?” Abra asked, obviously shaken up. Her hair was in a neat braid, but her eyes were a little sunken, stressed. Dan took a moment to think about her question, still waking up and not quite sure what nightmare she could have meant, but the moment was cut short.

Dan remembered the other man, the way he looked at Dan, touched him, called him-

“Sam,” Dan said definitively, “That- I think that was his nightmare-”

Abra shook her head and ran a hand over her hair.

“That was too- Dan, that was too real. That was-”

“None of our business, Abra.” Dan had gotten into the habit of shining more often, fine tuning his abilities in his own time and with Abra regularly, but Sam was none of their business. Sam could handle nightmares, vivid or not. The previous thought didn’t sit well with Dan, even if it was his. He was lying to himself. Poorly.

“It’s very clearly our business if he just blew us both out of bed at four in the morning from a supposed _nightmare_ , Dan. What if he needs your help?” She stated rather than asking, crossing her arms. Dan couldn’t argue with the logic, nor did he want to, but what was he supposed to do?

“I- I can’t exactly just pop in and ask what’s up, Abra,” He said. He thought of ways to do exactly that, regardless of what he’d said, though, so the look of disbelief on her face in reply was deserving. He sighed and waved her away. He knew what she’d say. He helped her, why couldn’t he help Sam? The “Why me?” never surfaced in Dan’s thoughts, he didn’t even think to think it.

“Go back to bed, kid, I’ll deal with it. Okay?” Abra beamed.

“Good luck, Uncle Dan,” She cooed playfully, no longer as startled, leaving as soon as the words left her mouth. He could hear pacing downstairs and he thought back on the nightmare. Abra was right in thinking it felt too real, too actual. Dan only had nightmares so vividly about things he knew personally, things he couldn’t escape no matter where he was or wasn’t.

He made his way to the small fabric and plastic storage cabinet, opening a drawer and pulling out several tea bags and the only two mugs he owned and a small, translucent white kettle covered in flowers from the drawer underneath the first one. The kettle had been a gift from Abra. Her mother thought it was a joke, something to poke fun at Dan, but they both knew he adored the kettle. It was his and Abra had chosen it for him.

Dan pulled on a pair of sweatpants, one side staying partially tucked into the waistband and took the collected things down to the second floor, careful walking down the stairs so as to not bother the neighbors.

The communal kitchen was modest, resembling that of something in an office building. He filled the kettle with water and let it do its own thing and dropped the tea bags into their respective mugs, soon leaning back in one of the two chairs at the small table behind him. He left his phone upstairs, he realized. He wiped a hand over his tired face and could smell the sweet herbs of the tea on his fingertips.

Tea had become one of the _little things_ Dan had come to love after allowing himself to finally indulge in comfort after the Overlook, so his tea drawer had a nice, assorted selection set up. He was quietly proud of the effort he’d put into organising said selection.

He’d chosen vanilla sleepytime tea for Sam and himself, only to calm the nerves if not allow him to get back to sleep when he returns to his room.

He could hear Sam’s thoughts racing back and forth from his room, having tuned them out as best as he could. Sam’s pacing footsteps down the hall sounded like they were right in front of Dan, cut short by the screaming whistle of the kettle.

Moments later, as he got closer to Sam’s door, the thoughts were louder, more frantic, and he could only make out the ones trying to push the memories in the nightmare away, trying to lock them up behind layers of damaged walls. He knew better than most that Sam’s efforts were wasted, but the layers piqued his interest despite his vehemence to mind his business.

He carefully situated both mugs in one hand, as well as the kettle. He fumbled slightly and stamped down his annoyance, getting situated enough that he could raise his hand to knock. He didn’t get the chance. The pacing stopped. The racing thoughts stopped. Mostly. Those of suspicion piped up and Dan shifted nervously on his feet as Sam opened the door.

He relaxed when he saw Dan standing there in his pajamas holding two mugs, hair messy and nervous. Dan offered a warm smile and held the extra mug out for Sam awkwardly.

“I uhm. I heard you pacing and thought. Well, tea always helps quiet my mind when I can’t sleep,” Dan admitted, relaxing when Sam took the mug. The room was dark, only the moon shining through the slatted window providing any light, but Dan could see Sam’s pink cheeks simply because he could feel them. Sam stepped to the side and cleared his throat.

“Do you- You can come in if you like,” Sam offered, a corner of his mouth perking up into a nervous smile, comforting Dan with the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one. He ducked his head when he entered the room, both hands hugging his own hot mug. Sam closed the door behind him, crossing the room and turning the lamp on his side table on. Before Dan could look closer, Sam swiped a few small items into the drawer of the side table and closed it, face still pink when he straightened up. Dan pretended not to see and set the kettle down on a stand next to the door before taking another few steps into the room, hopefully out of the way.

Sam mumbled a sorry as he stepped around Dan and dug into his dresser for a shirt, pulling it on just in time for Dan to even realize he hadn’t been really clothed to begin with. He glanced at his hip as it was covered, the only patch of skin that was available to notice, and brought his eyes back up, connecting to Sam’s for a second, two, three, break.

He shifted where he stood and ducked to meet his mug in the middle, taking a long sip and knowing the warmth in his cheeks wasn’t from the steam of the cup.

“Thank you for the uh, the tea, Dan.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. When I have nightmares like that, you know,” He glanced around as he spoke, noticing an open bottle of whiskey on the same side table and looked away from it, resisting the itching urge to wipe his hand over his lips, “I gotta get back to sleep somehow,” Dan chuckled and shook his head before letting his eyes find Sam again. He was staring at Dan hard, eyebrows furrowed, and Dan could feel little alarms going off. It gave him chills, up his spine, down his arms.

“I mean- I assume you had a nightmare. I- I heard you fall out of bed is what I meant,” Dan tried to mend his words, but despite the fact that Sam had physically relaxed, all of those little alarms were still going off and Dan cursed himself silently.

“Well, maybe I should leave you to it, yeah? See you later- Tomorrow- Today! I’ll see you today,” Dan stumbled over his words and almost over his own feet as he made his way to the door, opening it. It slammed closed, a large hand on the wood of the door holding it in the frame, Dan’s fingers still held around a doorknob that was no longer in his hand.

Dan opened his mouth to speak, stomach dropping as he was turned around and shoved against the door and something cold was slotted under his neck, head knocking against the wood of the door on instinct. He dropped the mug of tea, flinching away from the noise and what he could only assume was a blade.

He eyed Sam and swallowed hard, not allowing the whimper of confusion that had built up to surface. If Dan had been in a less life-endangering situation, he would have noted that Sam’s slept-on hair falling in his face the way it had was nothing less than cute. His face was still pink, but not out of the soft, shy feelings he’d had towards the older man before, which didn’t escape Dan, but neither did the involuntary thought of wanting to push his hair out of his face and feel how warm his face was under his lips-

“Sam-”

“Are you a demon? Did you follow me here?” Sam growled, stepping closer and causing Dan to squirm against the door, eyeing him and furrowing his eyebrows.

“De- Demon? I’m not a-” Dan pushed forward with the small amount of leeway he had, but Sam pushed the blade closer, nicking his throat in the process. Dan hissed inwardly and his eyes went wide, realizing he might not get out of this without taking control of the situation.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus-” Latin? Dan made a face and let Sam continue, but he focused on him.

“ _ **Not a demon. Just Dan,**_ ” Dan said as clearly as he could, Sam cutting himself off and backing away from Dan, letting the knife swing by his side for a few seconds before returning to the same threatening position.

“ _How_ -”

“ _ **I’m not going to hurt you, just let me explain,**_ ” Dan twisted his head to the side, flinching away at the resumed threat.

Sam hesitated to let him go, holding the knife up, giving him space. He looked wary, rightfully so, but Dan didn’t start speaking immediately. He put a hand over his chest and felt his heart pound in relief, laughing nervously as he stepped over the mess in the floor. He mourned the loss of his tea, but eyed Sam seconds later, sighing to himself. The soles of his feet were already getting sticky.

“My niece, Abra, she calls it magic, but I always called it the shining. I- I knew you had a nightmare because I,” Dan inhaled deeply and moved from foot to foot slowly, uncomfortable and anxious. He didn’t appreciate the bubbling of the two in his stomach, “While you were having it, I was having it too. I think Abra was too, and. When you fell out of bed, so did we,” Dan explained as gently as he could, trying his best not to focus on the air of shame and embarrassment around Sam.

“See- We think, well we talked and. and we think you shine too, but you shine differently, but I think that’s why _your_ nightmare woke _us_ up the same way it woke you up,” He continued, watching Sam fidget and take a seat, knife taking its place on the mattress next to him. He shifted and straightened up.

“You’re not one of Azazel’s children, are you?”

Dan’s face twisted up and he raised an eyebrow, “Is that a cult?”

Sam barked a loud laugh, shaking his head. Dan watched his hair sway gently with the movement before one of Sam’s hands swiped through it, pushing it back. He didn’t know if he should laugh too, not getting the joke.

“When- When you thought I was a demon, I thought you meant like the people in The Knot, but I think you’re just as confused as I am right now,” Dan admitted, finding a seat in a worn down recliner. Sam nodded and locked his own fingers in between each other, twisting his wrists gently and wringing his fingers.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Sam mumbled, but Dan only shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it. If someone I barely knew came into my house talking about matters he shouldn’t know about, I’d probably act first, ask later too. I’ve had worse, trust me,” Dan reassured him, offering a warm smile in spite of the fact his heart was still pounding.

They sat in silence for several minutes, letting them both mull over the situation.

“I don’t, you know, shine, by the way,” Sam piped up. Dan tilted his head, waiting for him to continue, “I used to have abilities, just a few of them, but not for years, now.”

Dan recognized the shame he felt, the guilt, the way he avoided eye contact with the topic. He glanced at the whiskey on Sam’s side table and back to Sam, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smelled detergent on a blue robe four decades earlier.

“Oh, you shine. Just. Not the same,” Dan tried to help, but he could see how the phrasing could seem insensitive, “You weren’t born with the abilities, were you?”

Sam shook his head. Dan could still feel shame coming off of him in waves, even if he tried to tune it out.

“There was a guy- A demon, he gave a group of babies the abilities around the same time to use for other things when they got older. I was one of them, but abilities left when he died. Mostly, but,” Sam shrugged and ran his hands through his hair again, “Yeah.”

Dan understood Sam’s question from earlier, “Azazel?” Another nod. It was Dan’s turn to laugh. Sam turned his eyes up to Dan again, confusion painting over his tired features.

“What?” He asked, almost defensively. Dan laughed harder, waving his hands at Sam to at least let him know he wasn’t laughing _at_ him.

“N-No- I- You said he made them all at the same time, you all, but you’re a bit younger than me, it just wouldn’t have worked unless I was some kind of test-run,” Dan explained, his laughter dying down to chuckles, a giggle here and there, “So, we aren’t demon siblings or whathaveyou.”

Sam laughed as Dan’s was dying off, seeing the failure in his own logic. He shook his head at himself. Dan stood up and glanced down at the mess, taking it upon himself to pick up the large chunks of broken glass that, thankfully, hadn’t shattered into too many pieces. Sam rushed to stand and help, already reciting apologies once more, pointing out it was his mess and his room and that he should be the one to clean it.

“Hey, it’s fine, you can just get me a new one later,” Dan joked, standing and looking around for something to wipe up the tea. Sam wordlessly left the room and came back from the bathroom with a towel, dropping it on the puddle and putting a hand up to halt Dan, who’d stepped forward to push the towel with his bare foot and clean the mess.

Once it was dealt with and the mug shards were discarded, Dan ran a hand over the back of his head, scrubbing his hair into his palm gently.

“I was wondering if you still wanted to go out- Today, to get food, I mean, for our. Our thing,” Dan asked, suddenly no longer lighthearted but nervous again, that now-familiar anxiety that apparently came with interacting with Sam this way.

“Our date-” Sam corrected without thinking, freezing in place and looking at a loss for words before chuckling and shrugging, “Yeah, I still want to, if you do?” He asked, involuntarily seeking reassurance that he hadn’t blown it by attacking Dan. If Dan was anybody else, any chance Sam had with him would have been gone (with the addition of the involvement of the law), but Dan was Dan and Dan really thinks he likes Sam.

“Of course I do. Who cancels a da- date because of a violent misunderstanding?” Dan teased, trying on a smile that wasn’t tight with wavering anxiety. Sam relaxed at that, laughing at the jab at himself, and let himself smile.

“So, I’ll see you in a bit?” Sam asked warmly, intercepting him and politely opening the door for him. Dan didn’t duck his head as much when he left, though his face and ears were tellingly warm.

“In a bit,” He nodded. Dan stayed where he stood after Sam closed the door, still smiling to himself before turning and heading back upstairs. He let his thoughts linger on the events of the last half hour, and more importantly, Sam.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go on date and trade stories! That's literally it!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, I love them, and they are the only thing that matters :)
> 
> playlist made for sam and dan (I'm open to suggestions!): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4FB3F9NKNHIpxmIFaVI1Nm?si=UxrzFloMQhOimkzn-hjc_Q
> 
> ko-fi: dumbheathen  
> insta: tcnyyy  
> discord: azzie#0166  
> twitter: VO1Drent

Sam had been sure that after nearly taking Dan’s head off that he would have run for the hills. Instead, he asked about their date, he gave him the warmest smile, and Sam almost believed that maybe, just maybe, he did shine, because he could still feel Dan’s eyes on him and the warmth behind them hours after he left.

That was never something he could do. Feel what other people felt, outside of run-of-the-mill empathy. Most people had that capacity. But he’d heard Dan, too, in his head. Not even Missouri could do that, project the thoughts to other people.

His thoughts soon turned from the potential of his own powers, or shine, and instead to the man upstairs. He could feel him there, too, but he didn’t focus on that. He focused on just him.

It was odd, being able to almost see the outline of the older man laying in bed just a floor above him. It wasn’t hard to mimic the position, but that one made it clearer, the image. He felt like if he squinted, he could see Dan.

The tickle of something on his cheek, running down into his ear and making him shiver made itself known and when he touched his fingers to it and brought them back up, his fingertips were red.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan laid in bed for hours, the opposite of restless, but far too many things running through his mind to get any more sleep than he’d gotten before he was acquainted with the floor. He let each line of thought have its own moment, heavily entertaining any that involved Azazel, demons, and what else Sam knew.

It was noon when he could feel eyes on him, from behind. From below.

The realization warmed him deeply, making him shift against the sheets. Not long after he felt Sam’s eyes on him, a small pressure built in his nose before a trickle of blood made its way into his ear. Sam had pushed himself too hard. He slid out of bed, still in his sweats, and washed the blood off of his face.

His cheek was still damp from the warm water of the faucet when he picked up his phone and looked for his wallet, searching through the folds of the worn leather until he found the neatly folded square of paper Sam had given him. He opened it and the scrawl of a phone number stared back at him, just as he’d expected, but he beamed nonetheless.

It only took a moment to save the number and tap out a message, though he didn’t like texting very much.

Dan: You shouldn’t push yourself. Nosebleeds aren’t fun.

He put the phone down on the bathroom counter, stripping down and turning the shower on.

Steam. It never failed to make him think back, to picture pain, torture, the wallpaper peeling up in the flames. He pushed it from his mind and stepped under the hot water, sighing and letting himself take his time. Clear his mind. Wipe the slate clean for a while.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan dried his hair and wrapped the towel around his waist, watching the notification light blink on and off. He picked it up and opened the message, happy that it was Sam as if he had more than four contacts in his phone.

Sam: How did you know? Reading my mind?

Dan chuckled and sat on his bed, still in the damp towel, not worrying about the dampness transferring to his bedclothes.

Dan: I got one 2

He could hear the notification ring out faintly below him, far away, followed by a laugh. A minute passed. Sam typed and stopped typing repeatedly.

Sam: Like when you fell out of bed because of me

Sam: I’m sorry

Sam: Did your niece’s nose bleed?

Dan stared at the messages coming in succession. He hadn’t even thought to ask Abra if she’d gotten one, doubting it heavily. If she had, he’d know by now. What Sam was attempting wasn’t big enough to affect her.

Dan: Don’t think so

He paused and thought a moment, fingers wiggling like they wanted to type.

Dan: Abra’s caused both and more, it’s fine I promise

Dan put the phone down on the bed, smiling at the casual conversation about something so specific, so personal. He stood and faced his dresser, going through the drawers. Something harrowing dawned on him in this process.

This really was a date. Sam hadn’t exactly hidden that fact, but Dan had danced around the word in his own head multiple times leading up to that morning and had avoided the reason why.

Dan Torrance had never been on a date. He didn’t think that disgusting one-night-stands with strangers and near-deadly amounts of alcohol could be considered dates in the slightest. If they were, he quietly mourned his last date respectfully and swallowed the guilt that came with it. But, he’d never dated, he’d actively avoided it in his teens, and he’d never been in a relationship.

He knew why he’d never dated, but he was forty-six now. He was embarrassed. It was a sickly feeling, something related to anxiety, and almost worse. If he’d realized this a year before, he wouldn’t have been fazed by it in the slightest. A man like him, someone who was used to being alone, who preferred to be alone, didn’t _need_ to date. He didn’t have an interest in it, and the same could be said for sex, generally speaking.

He wasn’t someone that considered either necessary, and it was best to avoid the judgment and fear in others’ eyes when he shined, and, recently, he made little to no effort to stifle his shine as he had most of his life. It was a waste. But the last nine and a half years (and some change), those years of being clean, were the best of his life, save for-

He cleared his throat and hummed, still staring down at his clothing. It was summer, but the lack of sunlight coming through his window whispered that it was more than only partially cloudy out.

A white, collared button-up and jeans, tucked. He stared at himself in the mirror once he was dressed and his stomach sank coldly. Too formal, much too formal for a casual, first date. Date. Date. Date. He took a deep breath and returned to the drawer, pulling out a large burgundy sweater, holding it out in front of him. He nodded and pulled it over the button-up, folding the collar over that of the sweater and returned to the mirror.

He combed through his damp hair and ran both of his hands through the sides, stepping back and running them over his front and sides, sighing again. Something wasn’t exactly right with the outfit. He scrunched his nose and knitted his eyebrows together in disdain at his own newfound anxiety in his appearance, taking the sweater off and unbuttoning the shirt, discarding it, and switching the sweater for a dark blue one instead.

He’d worn virtually the same outfit the day before to spend the day with Abra, down to the color scheme. He was sure Sam wouldn’t care or that he would even notice, but the anxiety of it settled in Dan’s stomach the moment the soft blue cotton yarn slid over his frame. It was baggier, comfier. Bigger, even. It didn’t swallow Dan as much as some of his other sweaters, but it was nowhere near snug either.

He felt his heart slow and realized too late that it had been pounding. His face warmed. What an ordeal.

Dan smiled to himself.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam could hear Dan walking above him. He’d tried to see him again, maybe even hear him, if only he could focus hard enough without revealing that he was doing so by causing a mutual popped blood vessel. He could convince himself Dan couldn’t feel the efforts themselves if the nosebleed hadn’t happened.

Dan had texted him while he was showering, several minutes after said nosebleed. He knew it was Dan before opening the message, despite the number being unknown, and he gently toweled his hair with one hand and opened it with the other, grinning as he replied. When he looked up into the mirror, he could see week-old stubble growing evenly on his face and jawline.

He scrubbed his hand over it and picked up his razor, but as he scratched over the short hairs, he frowned and shook his head at himself and put the razor back down. The last time he’d had facial hair, Dean bitched until he shaved it, and Sam pretended to be annoyed about it, but he hadn’t minded. But now that he was on his own, in a colder, northern state, he was more than happy to let it grow out.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan never got a final reply from Sam, but every time he checked the chat, it said Sam was typing and that he’d read the message. He decided to give him time, then when he stopped or finally sent it, Dan would ask when the best time to meet him downstairs would be.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam sat for half an hour with no response from Dan. Halfway through that, he’d crossed the room, dug into the drawer of his side table, and retrieved a stress ball. It was soft and filled with polymer jelly beads and glitter, so that when he squeezed it, he could see the glitter swirl and circle around soft beads in the water inside.

He squeezed and rolled the toy in his hand, staring instead at the drawer. He wondered why he’d been so ashamed of his small collection of fidget toys earlier, hiding them away from Dan. As if Dan would care. He knew for certain that he wouldn’t. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did, and he was absolutely sure of it. Seconds later, he was in front of the drawer again, digging out a keychain and reclaiming his ring as well.

The ring had a top layer that could spin easily and smoothly over the bottom layer. Jack had gotten it for him as a birthday gift when he saw the fidget spinner Sam used to keep on his person. It was a simple gesture, but Sam quietly cherished it, feeling somewhat seen by the closest thing he’d ever have to a son.

Along with the ring, he slipped his keychain into his pocket. He didn’t have a car yet, only because Dean wanted to drop one off when Sam got settled instead of letting him just take it and go. Sam had been annoyed at the time, not wanting to unnecessarily spend the money on bus tickets, but after thinking about it for some time, he thought that Dean just wanted more of an excuse to visit, scope the place out. Regardless, Sam kept a keychain anyways, holding his apartment key and two small fidget toys: a miniature tangle and a small, green pea pod.

The peas inside were meant to be popped out and had cute faces, which Sam appreciated more than he probably should.

He straightened and sighed, his phone still not having gone off. He didn’t take it out of his pocket, not wanting to face the reality of Dan leaving him on read. It’d been almost an hour now. Why else wouldn’t he have replied?

Sam inhaled deeply and held it, closing his eyes until he exhaled. He wasn’t going to let himself worry or get worked up. When he looked at the ceiling, it only took him a moment to vaguely sense Dan sitting on the edge of his bed. That was all he could feel, much to his dismay.

He grabbed his wallet and his jacket, putting them back down again to slide his shoes on and give himself a once-over in the mirror. Black tee-shirt, blue flannel, jeans. He ran both of his hands through his hair, letting it fall back into place neater than before. He scrubbed a hand over his face and smiled.

The world didn’t need saving. Sam Winchester was no longer a cog in a pre-destined machine. With that, he reclaimed his wallet and jacket, stuffing the wallet into his back pocket and locking the door behind him, making his way upstairs before the nerves of doing so could too quickly catch up to him.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan bounced his leg, only switching apps to check the chat every few minutes. Sam was still typing. He’d taken to busying himself with a game he’d only gotten as per the request of Abra, something she’d wanted to play together but he hardly had time for usually. It was more fun than he thought it would be, successfully distracting him.

It distracted him a little too well. There was a knock at the door and Dan only knitted his brows together briefly before realizing who it was, putting his phone down and answering the door.

Sam’s cheeks were a little pink and Dan wasn’t too far behind in mirroring it on his own, no shine needed. He opened his mouth to ask if he was okay, but Sam spoke first.

“I- I’m sorry if you were still getting ready. I texted and asked-”

“You did?” Dan didn’t mean to cut him off, but confusion painted over both men. Sam nodded and pulled his phone out, ready to show Dan.

“It- Well, it said you’ve been typing this whole time,” Dan hummed, unlocking his phone as well. just as he’d said, the typing bubble was looping through the same little animation, but when he looked up at Sam, his face was closer to red than pink.

“I- It didn’t send and. it. When I put it in my pocket-” Sam stumbled over his words and shoved the phone back into his pocket, sighing and wiping a hand over his face, the heat of it should have scalded his hand. Dan stared at him before laughing, stepping out of the way to let Sam in.

“And here I was thinking I’d been- What is it? Ghosted?” Dan asked, scrunching his nose at the word and laughing again. It was an ironic humor he found in the word. Ghosted. He’d been ghosted many times, if he was being literal. It shouldn’t have tickled him, but here he was. Sam laughed with him and stepped into the room, standing to the side while Dan pulled his shoes on.

“No! No, I thought _you’d_ done it,” Sam admitted, hand finding its way to the back of his neck and scrubbing the soft hair on the nape. Dan shook his head, sitting down on the bed to untie and retie the shoes. They’d come loose enough that he worried about tripping over them later in the day and wanted to actively avoid making a fool of himself.

“Well, it’s our luck that we’re neighbors and can’t really _actually_ ghost each other, huh?” He teased, catching another meaning immediately and straightening, “Not- Not that I’d hold it against you or make you- You know, if you ever need or want you, if- I-” Dan sighed and stood, waving both of his hands to clear it away, “Sorry.”

Sam was staring at him oddly. Well, warmly. Dan could feel the warmth. It was loud and light, a little tingly. His eyebrows were up slightly, eyes gleaming under the overhead light, cheeks still pink, lips slightly parted.

Dan decidedly wanted to kiss him, but the thought was so abrupt, layered. Sam wanted to kiss Dan. His face heated up again and he stood, patting his pockets, laughing nervously and wrapping his hand around the doorknob.

“Are you ready? I could eat a horse, I think,” He joked. Sam nodded and walked into the hallway, allowing Dan to lock his door behind him. Neither spoke as they made their way to the bus stop.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

The bus ride was calmer, less tense. Sam gave Dan the window seat, but kept a hand in his opposite pocket. Dan glanced at his wrist multiple times, then to his pocket, then to Sam’s face. Once Sam touched whatever it was again, an image passed through his head and through Dan’s, making him almost giggle.

“Peas?” Sam glanced at Dan and raised an eyebrow before raising the other. His face tinged pink again and Dan was sure it was quickly one of his favorite things to see. Sam pulled the item from his pocket and let it dangle. Dan tilted his head, blinking at the keychain. Hooked to it were keys, exactly like his, but two toys, he thought. He could feel the embarrassment from Sam deepen and he felt guilty for bringing attention to it.

“Do they help?” He asked. Sam nodded and looked to be chewing the inside of his cheek. Dan nodded too, but looked away, taking his attention away, “That’s all that matters, then. I was just curious.”

Sam stared at him for a long time before putting it back into his jacket pocket, hand not following behind to return to popping the peas out of their pod. His foot bounced against the floor of the bus and when Dan looked at him again, he was smiling. It was a small, barely there thing, but it was just as contagious as the ones that spread his lips wide over his teeth, showcasing dimples and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that have been there for years longer than they should have been.

Dan smiled to himself, more comfortable in the bus seat than he had been before.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam stepped off of the bus and almost held his hand out for Dan when he did the same, but caught himself. It would have been unnecessary, but the urge was there nonetheless. Just like the urge to walk a little closer, match his steps.

Dan matched his steps to Sam’s, but he wasn’t sure if he did it because he could feel it from Sam or if he felt it too. Both were equally comforting.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan suspected that Sam was walking slower so that he could keep up despite the height difference, which made it easier to match their steps in the quiet walk. They walked through the town for several minutes before Dan realized that neither of the two had chosen or even offered a specific place. He slowed and cleared his throat.

“What are you in the mood for?” Dan asked, intertwining his own fingers and twisting this way and that, popping his knuckles gently. Some of the nervous energy building up dissipated thankfully. Sam’s face froze and he licked his lips, glancing around.

“I- Well, I’m not sure,” Sam hummed and his hands found each other, playing with his fingers. Dan instinctively reached out and placed a hand in the middle of Sam’s. Sam straightened.

“Do you need a selection to choose from?” He asked in his best, most comforting voice. Sam looked a little stunned, but he nodded and kept fidgeting with his fingers. They tickled against Dan’s palm, but he could feel him pass by whatever anxiety had risen at the aspect of having forgotten to be more prepared. Dan pulled out his phone and, after several taps and slides, had a list ready to announce to the younger man.

Sam relaxed and listened to the potential spots, choosing something simple: chinese. It wouldn’t be his first choice normally, as he’d been craving his regular diet and hadn’t had anything resembling it aside from the bag of oranges and apples he’d gotten from the small shop in the town square in Frazier. But it was easy. It was more casual, nothing extravagant, something they didn’t have to heavily focus on and could talk if they wanted to.

He wanted to.

Dan smiled at the choice, feeling every ounce of Sam’s want for something healthier with no option. He didn’t speak on it but nodded and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“It’s this way,” He told the man, turning around and walking in the opposite direction as they’d been going. Sam followed, walking closer to Dan now than he had been before. Dan’s smile didn’t leave until they arrived at the restaurant. It was slow, only one or two tables filled. A family who’d decided to go out for one reason or another and a few students from what Dan assumed to be Abra’s high school.

The mother in the family had black flies around her, not swarming, but lingering, enough to catch Dan’s attention and wipe the smile off his face. It’d been some time since he’d come across a stranger with black flies in their company. He averted his eyes and didn’t speak until he and Sam were seated in a comfortable booth towards the back, given menus over the option of a buffet, which he was more than fine with.

Sam leaned to the side, eyeing Dan and making a face.

“Are you sad?” He asked, but not like he’d thought about it first. It was abrupt and caught him as off guard as it had Dan. Dan hadn’t realized he was sad until Sam said it, but as soon as it was out there, he knew he was right. He shook the feeling off and inhaled deeply, giving him a warm smile.

He thought about changing the subject, asking Sam why he preferred salads with no dressing and croutons over a steak, or even asking something more substantial, but he didn’t. Dan cleared his throat and nodded slightly.

“The uhm. The mom in that family. She-” Dan swallowed hard, not entertaining the realization that talking about these things out loud was much harder than it had been to type them, “She’s going to die. Sooner than she thinks, at least.”

Sam’s face went wide and he glanced at her as if to try to see what made Dan think so.

“Flies. They surround or cover people who are going to- Naturally. Sickness and old age, most of the time. I don’t make a habit of checking later, though, so,” He shrugged, staring at his menu instead of Sam. Eye contact felt wrong while casually informing him that he knew that a complete stranger was, for sure, going to die, and nothing could be done about it.

Dan had met people with terminal illnesses who lacked the flies and made a full recovery, but if the flies had claimed a person, there was no question about it. When he glanced at Sam, his eyes were glassy, but he nodded, accepting this. He was taken aback by his willingness, but before he could speak, he felt his phone start vibrating.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and his screen was lit up with a picture of himself and Abra, the teenager on his back, both of them smiling wide. Lucy had taken the picture, and there were dozens more from that day.

“Sorry, I gotta-” Sam raised his hands and smiled, shaking his head and nodding to the phone, silently giving permission of not minding a bit. Dan answered the phone.

“Are you in town?” Abra asked curiously, making him grin.

“Yeah, Sam and I-”

“Sam’s with you?” Her curiosity quickly turned to excitement. Dan could hear his little sister ask who Sam was, making him laugh unexpectedly.

“He is, we- Well, we’re on a date,” Dan admitted, face heating up as he glanced at Sam. The man sitting across from him smiled proudly.

“A date?” The same excitement rang out, “I told you he liked you! Me and mom will eat somewhere else, you’re at the chinese place on Main right?” Dan rolled his eyes, realizing she knew before even calling. He knitted his eyebrows together, turning and leaning out of the booth, looking to the front of the store and seeing Abra and Lucy, his niece waving through the glass at him. Her face lit up and Dan glanced at Sam, who was also leaning out of his side of the booth, smiling and waving.

Dan sighed and laughed, shaking his head, “Are you sure?”

Abra nodded and gave a thumbs up. He smiled and waved at Lucy and she waved back, wrapping an arm around Abra’s shoulders and leading her away.

“We love you, Uncle Dan- Good luck!” Abra chirped sweetly. Dan warmed.

“I love you, too, both of you,” He hummed and Abra hung up, but he could hear her for a good few moments after, explaining to her mom who Sam was, what was happening. He put his phone away and felt his face heat yet again, ears feeling pinker than they should be.

“Was that Abra?” Sam asked curiously, settling back into his seat. Dan nodded and shifted, picking his menu back up.

“She called to ask if I was in town, but she was just pretending that she didn’t know full well. She was probably out there before she even called,” Dan laughed, “I think she wants to meet you.”

Sam laughed and ran a hand through his hair, giving a little shrug, “I wouldn’t mind. She’s like you, right? She shines?” Dan nodded but caught himself.

“Like us, Sam,” He corrected gently. He suspected that Sam wasn’t just in disbelief that he shined, but that he thought he couldn’t. Sam closed his mouth and the waitress approached, taking their orders. Dan didn’t hear what Sam ordered because he’d distracted himself with instead trying to read him, but he couldn’t. He ordered and handed his menu over, shifting in his seat again.

“Why do you think you can’t?” He asked tentatively. He knew he was treading waters that required a certain gentleness. Sam looked like he was refusing to bristle. He could see the same acceptance and bargaining in Sam’s face as Dan had gone through when deciding to tell him about the woman in the front of the restaurant.

“I told you about Azazel and how. How I had powers before but they went away when he died,” Sam began, only continuing when Dan nodded, “That- It was a lie. Kind of.”

Dan’s face knitted together. Sam cleared his throat, “They did go away. The precognitions, the visions, I was even able to project a vision to my brother once, but I almost passed out. An-Anyways, a while after Azazel died, I met a demon named Ruby who wanted to help us with something big,” Sam laughed dryly, like looking back was bittersweet, “Well, big for us back then. But she encouraged me to- To regain the powers, convinced me it was necessary, and to do that I. Well, I had to drink demon blood. H-Hers. And others.”

Dan’s heart picked up, wondering if he’d stepped into a world much, much bigger than himself. He knew he had, but he didn’t let his face change as much as it wanted to. His surprise wasn’t as important as it was for Sam to speak right then.

“I got addicted to it. To the blood. To the powers; I could exorcise a demon without ever saying a single word or latin, just by focusing. I was telekinetic, I was stronger than I’d ever been at that time, and eventually, I could kill demons the same way,” Sam sighed like a weight had been lifted, “I haven’t had a drop in years, so I don’t see how I could possibly have any of the powers you claim I do.”

Dan leaned forward, eyebrows knitted together, “Earlier, you pushed two people out of their beds because you were having a nightmare. You pulled us in. You gave me a nosebleed because you were trying to tap into it. Sam, you shine. I- I think maybe you were just unaware of it, or maybe you ignored proof of _knowing_ things you shouldn’t or *feeling because- Well, because it connects you to who you were when you,” Dan couldn’t make himself finish the sentence. He’d been clean almost ten years, but it still caught in his throat with shame. Sam looked like he was being watched, picked apart.

“I guess- I guess it’s easy to ignore when you do it without thinking,” Sam admitted, “I felt like a monster for years after.”

Dan swallowed hard, “I’ve. I knew I shined when I was a kid. My whole life, I guess. But when my mom died - I was twenty - I picked up and moved around. I never settled, refused to. The only home I had was the bottom of any bottle I could find. It made the shine go away. Or dull, almost entirely. I didn’t want to shine anymore; my shine caused some things in my childhood that still linger today,” He admitted, hands under the table in his lap as he picked at the cuticles of each nail.

“I- Do you believe in ghosts?” He asked, not wanting to make Sam uncomfortable, nor did he want to feel judged by Sam. Sam looked amused for a flash, nodding slowly. Dan assumed the amusement was due to the fact that the question was probably silly, not needed, since Sam had just looked him in the eye and admitted he was addicted to _demon blood_. He swallowed a laugh at himself, more comfortable now.

“Long story short, my shine was like a battery. A strong one, I think. It woke some bad things up a long time ago, made them hungry. So- I- I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not alone in that.”

Dan worried at the middle of his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue briefly. Sam smiled warmly and nodded.

“Thank you, Dan.”

“Of course.”

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan had stifled one, two, three yawns during their meal. He was far from bored, laughing and sharing smaller, less serious stories with Sam. Well, nothing as vulnerable and dark. Dan learned that Sam was a retired hunter.

Over the course of one meal, Dan was informed that not only were demons real, but so were angels, as well as just about every hollywood monster and then some. He wasn’t surprised, or even scared, but he wondered if he would have known if he was coming across a monster or a human being and if he had before. Learning that Sam and his brother, Dean, were not only best friends with an angel, but the foster fathers of a nephilim, Jack, was more of a surprise to Dan than the existence of monsters.

Learning that Sam and Dean had both died, several times over each, and had been to both Heaven and Hell, was even more surprising than that.

Dan let Sam speak for as long as he wanted, not only interested in what he had to say, but asking questions and staying curious, a new detail or story right around the corner.

But again, Dan stifled a yawn, and Sam stopped mid-thought and waved the waitress over, asking for the bill. Dan sat up, answering that he had it, earning an almost-glare from Sam.

“I got it, Sammy. You can get the bus fare,” Dan bargained silently, raising an eyebrow. Sam smiled and backed off, and with that, the waitress left to get what was requested.

“Will I ever be able to do that?” Sam asked, almost nervously. Dan nodded.

“I don’t see why not. I wasn’t able to a while ago, when- Well, all it took was some focus and practice with Abra and I was back into the swing of things. Projecting, reading. I can tune in and out, too. I feel like I’m crossing a line by listening in too often,” He explained, pulling two twenties from his wallet and leaving them on the bill tray, scribbling out that the difference was a tip for the waitress before standing, smoothing over his sweater.

Dan had the urge to hold his hand out for Sam, and, unlike Sam, he did so. Sam stared at it for a second before taking it and standing, walking along with him, hands clasped gently together.

They were quiet for several minutes, walking nowhere in particular. Sam almost led the way to the bus stop, but Dan didn’t seem in any hurry, so the plan died before he could even begin to.

“I’m sorry if this didn’t live up to your expectations, Dan,” Sam apologized, free hand in his pocket and toying with the tangle on his keychain, “I haven’t done this in a while, much less so honestly.”

Dan glanced at Sam and was glad that the sun was setting, as his face was warm and that familiar embarrassment from earlier resurfaced.

“It’s fine, really-”

Sam shook his head, “No, I wanted to make sure you had fun, but I kind of just talked a lot,” he huffed a laugh, annoyed with himself.

“I like hearing your stories. I don’t mind you talking, I just don’t talk as much and- and that’s okay,” Dan hummed, squeezing Sam’s hand absentmindedly to alleviate some of the nerves he’d built in the last minute, “Plus, I uh,” he shrugged, “I’m having fun, but you don’t have to worry about living up to dating expectations. It- It’s not like I have a mode of comparison.”

He’d tried to word it vaguely enough to save face, to quickly change the subject, but Sam stopped in his tracks. Dan didn’t realize this and kept walking, making it a few steps before almost losing his balance due to keeping hold of Sam’s hand.

“Dan?”

“Sam,” Dan’s voice was less firm than he’d intended it to be. He felt like a bashful teenager.

“Dan, was this your first date?” Dan laughed anxiously and shrugged.

“Of course this was our first date, you asked me yesterday, remember?” Dan knew it was a long shot playing dumb and when he looked up at Sam, his fears were confirmed. He sighed and nodded.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked softly, chewing his lip. Dan sighed again.

“I didn’t really care- or realize exactly, until today,” his tongue was worrying at his lip again, “I never really wanted to date. Avoided it as a kid, then when mom- And I just drifted and the occasional drunken one night stand and. You know?” Dan squeezed Sam’s hand repeatedly, not realizing it was Sam’s hand anymore.

“I can understand that, you- Were you scared because of your shine?” Sam asked, voice soft and warm and open enough that Dan could fall into it if he wasn’t careful. But he didn’t feel like he needed to be careful with Sam.

“Mhm.”

“Well, I’m really sorry to say this,” Sam started, Dan’s stomach twisting in regret for the thought he’d _just_ had, but it was chased by warm relief, “but could you lead the way to the nearest grocery store?”

Dan’s face twisted up, his nose scrunching up slightly. He nodded tentatively, looking around to see where they’d ended up in their stroll. Ten minutes, tops.

“Can I ask why?” He asked, nodding in the direction he was going to start walking before he started, to give Sam time to process. Sam’s mouth frowned, but his eyebrows raised.

“I don’t see why not,” He teased, squeezing Dan’s hand and reminding him for the first time that they’d never stopped holding hands. Dan’s ears got warm as if he hadn’t initiated it.

“Why are we-”

“It’s a surprise.”

Dan glared at him incredulously, lips parting. He ran his free and through his hair, feeling it fall apart from the pushed back strands and land where it wanted.

“Fine.”

Sam glanced at him and the glimmer in his eye was enough to make Dan’s glare - pout, but he’d never admit it - melt away. He didn’t complain once in the walk, leading the way avoiding swallowing the joy that came from Sam swinging their hands in between them slightly as they walked. Dan simultaneously cursed himself for never having allowed himself to have anything that resembled this before and thanked himself for waiting until now.

When they got to the store, Sam stopped Dan before he could go in. He took his hand away and Dan frowned briefly before he caught himself.

“Will you wait here for me? I won’t be long,” He promised, offering a warm smile again. Dan was confused but nodded, decidedly not listening in. He was curious, but the kind of curious where he wanted to see how it played out, not knowing the endgame immediately.

“Take your time,” Dan laughed softly when Sam shifted from his heels to the balls of his feet, like he was more excited than he was letting on. Dan didn’t need to use his shine to feel Sam just buzzing all around him.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam had to shove both of his hands in his pockets in the store, his hands wiggling vigorously as he walked around and searched. When Dan said he’d never been on a date, never been with anybody, Sam made it his goal to woo the socks off of the older man. Make this experience count for him and mean every bit of it.

When his eyes landed on the display, he almost bounced right there on his feet. He rushed to the stand of bouquets and walked around it too quickly, having to circle it again more patiently before he found what he was looking for. He picked it up and went on to find the next part of his gift.

He stared at the selection, hoping he was focusing the right way, wanting to use his shine or whatever was buried inside of him to choose the perfect one, the one Dan would appreciate the most. Once he was positive, he rushed to the check out, feet tapping impatiently but he smiled politely, not wanting the cashier to think he was being rushed.

As soon as he could, he went back outside, seeing Dan sitting on the curb leading up to the automatic doors and smiling at his back. The second he smiled, Dan turned and looked at him, eyes lighting up even as night surrounded them, and stood up. He dusted his behind off, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Get your groceries?” Dan teased, offering a smile, the curiosity eating at him. Sam bit his lip and grinned, causing his lip to slide out from the hold his teeth had. He opened the bag, pulling the small bouquet out and watching Dan blink at it. Seconds later, a blush that wasn’t Sam’s spread over his face and ears, an earnest, lovely pink that Sam didn’t need to squint to see under the dingy yellow of the parking lot lights.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

“Sam…” Dan started, swallowing and taking the bouquet when Sam offered it to him. Orange roses and pale, yellow primrose. He ducked his head to smell them, their sweetness tickling his nose and warming him. Was it the flowers? Sam was staring at him.

“You didn’t have to,” he started, but Sam’s face didn’t change, eyes still wide, smile waiting to happen, “But thank you, Sam, really. That was- This is so nice of you.” Sam lit up, grin finally breaking free and welcoming his dimples to this parking lot party. Dan wanted to hide his face but did everything in his power not to, thumbing over a loose petal.

He stepped up to Sam and leaned forward on his toes, lifting up slightly and kissing Sam’s cheek softly before pulling away, the tickle of the hair there lingering for only a few seconds. Sam’s smile didn’t falter for a second, but he did offer Dan his hand again, moving the white, plastic bag to his other hand. Dan’s eye lingered on the wiggling digits momentarily before he smiled and took it with his own.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

The bus ride home was pleasant. The moon was slowly rising higher into the sky and Dan tried several times to catch it in its ascent as he looked out the window, occasionally wiping condensation from the glass. The temperature was dropping quickly, but he didn’t mind. It wasn’t going to get cold enough to snow, not for another few months, and even then, it had gotten easier over the years to ignore it.

If he had to take a sick day or two every few weeks to avoid panic attacks at work, that was his business and only his business. He squeezed Sam’s hand gently, and Sam squeezed back.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan held the door open for Sam into their building, half expecting the two of them to go their separate ways when they reached the second floor, but Dan wasn’t exactly fully ready to say goodnight. He racked his brain for some excuse as they went up the stairs.

“Do you want a cup of tea before-” He bit the words off and sighed, “Shit, I forgot I dropped the mug in your room.”

Dan laughed at himself, but Sam looked guilty. He still felt bad for attacking Dan, accusing him of being a _demon_. He’d look back on it later and laugh, maybe realize that if he hadn’t, he and Dan likely wouldn’t have made such comfortable steps closer to each other in such a short period of time. But for now, he felt guilty for having been _in_ the store just a few aisles away and completely forgot.

Dan patted Sam’s shoulder, tutting, “If tea meant that much to you, I have normal cups. Won’t kill me to-”

“Your kettle is still in my room.”

Dan blinked at him and tried to remember if he had really left it behind that morning. He had. There was no way he hadn’t. He’d left Sam’s room empty-handed, even leaving the mug that was meant for Sam. He mentally shook his head at himself.

“Well, I can drop by later and get it and we can raincheck on the tea?” He offered. He didn’t have time to let his hope of Sam refusing to develop, as he already had his hands up.

“I can go get it and we can meet in the kitchen? If- I mean if you still want to?” Sam asked hopefully, doing the same shifting from the back to the fronts of his feet as he had before. Dan smiled and nodded.

“I’d like that-”

“Great! I’ll be right back- Wait,” Sam was already turning to walk away when he stopped himself, completely the turn into a 180°, “Here. I didn’t know if you had one or not, but I don’t want to leave it in my room when I come back, so I should just give it to you now.”

Sam handed Dan the plastic bag he’d been holding since the store, confusing Dan further. He hadn’t thought it was for him and he’d refused to prod around. He took the bag and Sam grinned, giving a little wave as he rushed to his room for the kettle and, presumably, his borrowed mug.

Dan climbed the rest of the stairs, digging his keys out and turning his light on. He set the flowers down gently on the bed, opening the plastic bag. The laugh caught him off guard. It was a vase.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t expected a vase, but it was nice. The perfect size for a smaller bouquet such as the one Sam had given him.

Which is when it hit him.

Sam had gotten him a bouquet. Sam had bought flowers for Dan. His face warmed, making him shift from foot to foot slowly. His stomach fluttered inside and he knew it was butterflies instead of pestilent, haunting flies.

Dan followed the directions on the flower food packet in the bouquet and filled the vase with the water mixture, fluffing the flowers in their new home. He carried the vase with both hands even though he didn’t exactly have to as he looked for a place to set it down. He decided on the top of his dresser. It looked nice, the light pink vase covered in tiny, blue flowers and filled with real yellow and orange ones.

His tongue worried at his lip for a moment, not unpleasantly, while he stood back and studied it, biting his lip and nodding before turning away. He pulled open the drawer of his tea cabinet, grabbing enough bags for the two of them and a tupperware of sugar. He kept his milk in the fridge downstairs, anyway, so he was thankful that his arms wouldn’t be full.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam hand washed the mug Dan had left behind that morning as quickly as he could, as well as filling the kettle and setting it on the stove to heat up. He felt restless, wondering if Dan liked the vase, if he was offended, if he hated it.

He stared in the general direction of what he assumed should be Dan’s room and focused. He didn’t get _nothing_ , but he couldn’t definitively say he got _something_ , either.

He sighed and found a seat at the small table, tapping his fingers against it as he waited. He didn’t exactly like that he was suddenly a nervous school kid again, overly worried about the opinion of a potential partner and putting himself in said position.

He hadn’t worried about gifts and impressing a person since Jess. Jess. She’d like Dan, he thought. She knew that Sam was bisexual, she knew almost everything about him and she always supported him, loved him regardless.

Thinking about her helped him focus on the situation at hand. He could say the job prevented him from being able to put time and care towards a person, but he’d be lying to himself. He’d had opportunities. When Dean was in Purgatory, Sam had very nearly reached the semblance of happiness he’d always wanted with Amelia, but he’d never cared for her the way he cared for-

He’d never put the extra effort forward, aside from baseline behavior.

For Dan, he was trying, and as much as that little voice in his head wanted to convince him, it wasn’t a rebound from hunting, it wasn’t a way to cope with loss, and it wasn’t because they both shined.

Maybe that’s how he found his way to the modest New Hampshire town, but is that why he stayed?

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan made his way down the stairs carefully, smiling dumbly. He was getting tired, but he couldn’t find it in him to regret asking if Sam wanted to join him for a cup before bed. He picked up the ass-end of Sam’s line of thought as he approached the kitchen, not trying to. Sam was reassuring himself, a finality in the tone of his thinking that comforted Dan.

He hadn’t expected to catch Sam all but admitting Dan was a good reason to stay, not pick up and settle elsewhere. He hadn’t expected it, but he hadn’t expected feeling thankful for it either.

Dan rapped his knuckles against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching Sam jump at the sudden noise and perk up, smiling. He returned the smile warmly, grazing the back of his hand over Sam’s shoulder as he passed to place the things in his hands on the counter. When he spotted the kettle on the stove, his smile widened.

Dan sat in the free chair, on the same side as the table as Sam, turning it and facing Sam instead of the wooden plane.

“The vase was sweet of you, Sam,” He hummed, propping his head up in his hand, elbow on the table, “I love it, really.”

Sam beamed and shifted in his chair.

“I hoped so. When you said that you never- I wanted to give you the staple flowers that come with the deal of dating as a teen, since you didn’t get to,” Sam explained, stumbling over it a moment later, “Well, not that I see you as a girl, or _the_ girl, I didn’t intend that at all, I like flowers too. There’s no reason to assume only the girl- A girl has to get the-”

Dan placed his hand on Sam’s and chuckled softly.

“I didn’t think that at all,” He started, standing up seconds before the kettle began whistling, “But maybe I do now,” Dan teased. He reached into the cabinet for a mug, one that was left behind by a former tenant and had become the property of the building. He had forgotten about them, but was thankful he checked, as he hadn’t gotten a glass from his room either.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it, listening to Sam tap his foot while he fixed both cups. He turned halfway, hands ready to be busy.

“Sugar? Milk?” He asked. Sam shook his head. Dan turned and grimaced to himself. He’d put quite a bit of both when-

“Actually- I really liked how you made it this morning,” Sam corrected, voice a little sheepish as if he’d originally decided to go the easy route. Dan let his shoulders fall slightly, grimace turning into a small smile. He kept his head ducked, staring at his hands as he worked. The two drinks were identical when he was finished, and he handed a mug to Sam as he sat down, putting his own down to let it steep for a moment.

“So, you like tea?” Sam asked curiously, sipping at his carefully. Dan could see him blow into the mug with his bottom lip around the outside of it. He nodded and played with the string of one of the tea bags.

“A while back, around when I met Abra, we had a run in with- Hm. With the closest thing to hunting that I could possibly compare. And after, I kind of let myself have some things. Tea was one of those things for me,” Dan explained, picking the mug up and taking a sip and laughing shortly after, “Abra calls it hug-in-a-mug because I- I said the warmth was similar once, I guess.”

Dan realized that he talked about her to Sam more than he’d planned to, mentioning her frequently as if he’d been there for much longer than a week. A constant.

“When you met her?” Sam asked. He had briefly made a face at the statement, but he knew it wasn’t impossible to have and not know about family. He hadn’t met his own little brother until he was practically grown. Dan nodded and took another sip, putting it back down and getting comfortable in his seat.

“I don’t mean to skirt around the subject or avoid it. You’ve told me so much tonight that I know you wouldn’t- I mean, I know you’d understand? Forgive me,” Dan hummed, giving a half smile and scrubbing a hand over his face. Sam shook his head and waited patiently for Dan to speak.

He told Sam everything that had happened, as best as he could, leaving out smaller, unnecessary details like sitting in his room and very nearly relapsing after seeing Billy die. He left out his conversation with his father. He left out the fear he felt when the hotel took control of his body. But he continued on, describing what it was like to take over Abra’s body, to use his shine intentionally and properly for the first time in too long, and everything that came after.

“Rose barely got the artery, but it was a close call, I think. And in the end, when I’d- When I’d decided to stay with the hotel, my m- mom wouldn’t let me. I woke up in the snow surrounded by cops and EMT, so. Small blessings, right?” His laugh was dry, more serious than he’d wanted to be. He busied his mouth with the edge of his still-warm mug, taking a long sip. Sam processed the tale and nodded slowly, eyebrows knitted in thought.

“I’ve never heard of that- Not your mom, that’s all but normal, honestly, but- I’ve never heard of something like The True Knot. You said they eat shine?” Sam asked, leaning forward and placing his forearms on his thighs, hands together. Dan could almost make out a black suit on the man, fully believing now that Sam had been telling the truth about regularly impersonating the FBI for cases.

He caught himself giggling at the image of Sam being all business, clearing his throat and nodding, “Mm-hm.”

Sam squinted but not at Dan. He was thinking hard, racking his brain for information that wasn’t there. He pulled his phone from his pocket and his thumbs were quick in typing something out. Dan was curious, but he stayed where he was, quiet. Sam shoved the phone back into his pocket and gave Dan a quick smile, apologetic.

“Sorry, just wanted, y’know, to tell Dean. Better safe than sorry,” Sam muttered. He picked up his mug to sip from it, but it was empty. Dan’s mug wasn’t far behind, and he knew that, but he still partially resented it.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam insisted on walking Dan back to his room despite Dan’s arguing that they were already on Sam’s floor. He carried everything but the kettle, but he’d grabbed for that too before Dan put his foot down. He knew what Sam was doing. He couldn’t hear it, but he could feel it coming. And it was. He knew it for sure, but the butterflies in his stomach had formed some kind of whirlwind and he had to put all of his energy into not tripping over his own feet.

In front of his door, Sam’s face was as pink as Dan’s, a small comfort to the older man. Dan almost considered the possibility of having been wrong in assuming that-

“Can I kiss you?”

Nevermind.

Dan swallowed and both hands holding the kettle gripped a little harder as he nodded. He didn’t know why he was so anxious for it. He’d never dated, sure, but he’d kissed many times. This was nothing new to either of them, but they were both practically vibrating out of their shoes.

Sam leaned down, hands still holding the sugar and mug and situated in front of him, and kissed Dan. Dan placed a hand on the back of Sam’s, pushing it up gently to hold the back of his wrist as he kissed him back, suddenly self-aware that his lips were more than likely chapped, but Sam stepped closer regardless, smiling into the kiss before pulling away. He didn’t pull away entirely, pecking Dan’s lips quickly once, stepping back to where he’d been standing before.

Dan’s mouth pulled into a smile before he could stop it, teeth showing, nose briefly scrunching up in amusement. His hand lingered on Sam’s for a moment before they both came out of it, Sam offering his belongings back to him. Dan took them and bit his lip at the corner, mumbling his thanks.

“Goodnight, Sam.”

“Night, Dan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!! Drop a kudos and a comment if you feel up for it!!! I reply to all of them!
> 
> playlist made for sam and dan (I'm open to suggestions!): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4FB3F9NKNHIpxmIFaVI1Nm?si=UxrzFloMQhOimkzn-hjc_Q
> 
> ko-fi: dumbheathen  
> insta: tcnyyy  
> discord: azzie#0166  
> twitter: VO1Drent


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Abra meet Dean and Jack. Movie night :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every chapter is longer than the last and I'm honestly not mad about it. Look at you go, you funky little smooth-brain.
> 
> playlist made for sam and dan (I'm open to suggestions!): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4FB3F9NKNHIpxmIFaVI1Nm?si=UxrzFloMQhOimkzn-hjc_Q
> 
> ko-fi: dumbheathen  
> insta: tcnyyy  
> discord: azzie#0166  
> twitter: VO1Drent

The rest of April came and went in a speedy two weeks, much to Dan’s surprise. His days didn’t drag on or blend, but he’d be lying if he said that time wasn’t flying recently.

He hadn’t gotten more than a day off since his date with Sam, which was fine, as Sam had taken to dropping by the hospice, sometimes when Dan was nowhere near his desk at the front just so that he could leave a note or flowers for him to find when he got back. A mug, once.

Dan had felt Sam in the building each time, but he only caught him in the act once. Sam was coy and bashful, pretending that the note on the counter _wasn’t_ from him, nor the sucker on top of it acting as a paperweight.

Dan kissed him and sent him home and the note was tucked into his breast pocket after reading. Most of the notes contained cheesy jokes and pick-up lines as if they were necessary at this point, but Dan kept all of them in his side table in his room nevertheless.

He was still getting used to the attention, realizing that knowing you’d never been subjected to it and being subjected to it were two entirely different things. He cherished it just the same, wanting to reciprocate and having no idea how. Well, he had _ideas_ , but executing them was a different story.

Until Abra got involved. Involved herself. She’d taken the liberty of doing a background check on Sam and, in turn, his brother Dean. No records of Jack, which was to be expected if Sam had been telling the truth. And it seemed that he was.

Dan wasn’t aware of this until she stayed for the weekend, until she was smack in the middle of blowing up the air mattress Dan had gotten for this specific occasion on a Friday afternoon.

“ _ **I think Sam’s birthday is on Sunday.**_ ”

Dan was folding laundry while standing next to his own bed, straightening his back immediately.

“ _ **What?**_ ”

Abra ignored Dan for a full minute, pushing her hand down on the mattress and testing the air pressure. She made a face and let it continue.

“ _ **I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to get angry. I did a background check-**_ ”

“Abra- A background check?” He would be in disbelief if his interest hadn’t been piqued. She nodded and the corner of her mouth pushed the round of her cheek up, eyebrows up like she was assuring him. She tested the pressure again and smiled, turning the machine off and screwing the cap on.

As she picked up the sheet for the mattress and unfolded it, she spoke aloud, “On his brother, too.” Dan grimaced, silently scolding her as any responsible adult should when a teenager has just revealed that they were doing something they shouldn’t, but she could see in his eyes that he was curious as to what she found.

“Other than birthdays and schools, college in Sam’s case, I couldn’t find much after 2005. Until 2011. Not only are they both “dead” two times over each, but- Do you remember anything about those two brothers going on a murder spree that year?” Abra asked, seemingly unphased by the information she was relaying to Dan. Aside from the shock, Dan honestly couldn’t remember. The first half of 2011 was a blur of whiskey and bar fights. The second half was his first few months here, in Frazier, getting and trying to stay clean, avoid nightmares and visions.

He shook his head and shifted uncomfortably where he stood.

“Well, it wasn’t really them. You told me he told you about shapeshifters and the likes right? Which means it had to be something like that. Why else would he be so willing to just share his identity with strangers with access to the internet?” Abra teased, “Plus, I saw the videos. It wasn’t them. They were wrong in the eyes, Uncle Dan.”

He felt himself let go of a deep sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding. He laughed amidst the nervous energy released with the exhale and ran a hand over his hair.

“Was about to curse my luck, Ab.”

She shook her head at him and let the now sheet-covered air mattress hit the ground softly. Abra placed a folded blanket and pillow on the mattress before climbing into Dan’s bed and picking up a tee-shirt, beginning to fold it.

“Their records saying they’re dead doesn’t surprise me,” Dan started, “He said they’ve both _actually_ died several times. Who’s to say once or twice didn’t include paperwork?”

Abra shrugged and put the shirt in the pile it was meant for, starting another.

“Is it safe? To associate with them?” She asked tentatively. Dan looked at her and her small wave of worry. He’d had the same fears. Associating with people that hunted bad things their entire life - people that were well known by those bad things - could attract danger if they weren’t careful.

But every time Dan thought of this, he thought of the finality in Sam’s voice the times he’d assured him it was done. He was done. He could defend himself _if_ something happened, but it was doubtful. Dan trusted Sam.

“I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way. I’d rather die, you know that,” He promised her, leaning over the bed and kissing her forehead. She relaxed under it and nodded, ceasing her fingernails picking at the inner seam of a white tee.

Several moments passed, the two of them folding and sorting through scrubs and shirts that had piled up over the last week. Dan was thankful that Abra trusted him and his trust in Sam, that she knew Dan would do anything to protect her.

If the need ever arose, Dan wouldn’t hesitate to do what he needed to keep her out of harm’s way.

Abra snapped Dan out of his thoughts and he looked down at the unfolded shirt in his hands that he’d stopped folding in favor of a line of thought he’d rather not have gone down.

“Did you hear me?” She asked, raising her eyebrows instead of knitting them in annoyance. He shook his head.

“Sorry.”

“I said that today’s the last day of April, meaning Sam’s birthday is Sunday. It’s May second.”

“Oh.”

Dan put the shirt down and sighed, chewing at the skin of his bottom lip, “Should I get him a gift? I- I don’t know what he likes, really, we haven’t gotten to really talk a lot since- You know? And even then-”

Dan heard voices beneath them. He felt loud happiness all at once, almost feeling Sam’s door close behind them. He made a face and continued, “We haven’t talked much about interests. But. He has these toys that help him calm down or focus, I think. He seemed less than excited to have attention on it, so I let it be.”

He wasn’t one to fret over gifts. He was more of a card and money person if not the type to use his shine to a wholesome advantage. With Abra, it was easy. He knew what she liked, but if he had to, he could just ask. With Lucy, he’d dig around as respectively as he could to find out what she wanted or needed and he’d get that, along with the card and money. (Dan may not have known about having a little sister for the vast majority of his life, but he wanted, not needed, to make up for it. The look on Lucy’s face when she knew he was trying to show that he cares made him feel big-brotherly.)

But Sam? What did he know about Sam that wasn’t hunting and three weeks’ worth of brief interactions?

“Like fidget toys?” Abra asked curiously, finishing folding the last shirt. Dan shrugged and a mildly bewildered look crossed his face.

“I don’t know- A little pea pod. A colorful string chain?” Dan tried, looking up and squinting slightly as he scanned through his own memory, “I saw a few on his side table when he had the nightmare. He had a fidget spinner like you so- Yeah, fidget toys, I guess.”

Abra nodded and thought for a moment.

“We can go out tomorrow and find something if you want?” Dan felt his face get warm, but he nodded. He didn’t appreciate the outward show of embarrassment on his part, something he was constantly on the fence about. Half of the time, it made him feel softer around the edges. Like someone sanded him down and wrapped him up in his favorite blanket. Other times, it just made him anxious. Like he was letting his guard down, inviting danger.

He wasn’t sure.

The voices downstairs continued and he made no effort to listen in, only catching fragments here and there.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan looked over at Abra where she was curled up into her blankets, clutching the same stuffed rabbit that she’d had since she was a child. It was late and the movie had ended some time ago, but he couldn’t sleep. He was normally awake at this time, so despite having been awake for several hours already, it wasn’t happening.

He checked the time on his phone. Two. Sam would be asleep by then, he thought. He didn’t have to assume, actually. He could feel the man however many feet below him, sleeping peacefully. Dan couldn’t remember the last time Sam had slept entirely through the night, so every night, he hoped _this time_ he would.

He wished he could be there in the moment. There to protect him, lull him back to sleep and help the sweeter memories Sam had to have in there somewhere surface and make sleep something that wasn’t hell, literally. He could handle himself in the real world, sure, but when was the last time he’d slept more than four or five hours?

He thought of ways he’d comfort the man until sleep took him.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

He woke up to the sound of the shower, daylight a loving gaze over his room. The air was freckled with particles that were only really noticeable in rays of sunlight. His eyes landed on Abra’s empty bed before finding their way back to the ceiling.

Sam wasn’t in his room, which prompted Dan to wonder what he was doing, if he was enjoying himself, having a good day. It didn’t take a genius to realize that the visitors he had - or has - were likely his family, visiting for his birthday.

Dan recalled Sam mentioning an upcoming drop-in anyways, for a supposed car. Sam had brought it up in the same moment as Dan bringing up the prospect of meeting Abra, as per her request, but Dan knew better than to assume. All the same, he was curious.

Not curious enough to impose, though.

When Abra came out of the bathroom, hair freshly braided neatly behind her and a wide smile.

“You’re awake.”

“Mhm,” Dan hummed, not ready to clear his throat and rub the sleep away, be fully awake. Abra rolled her eyes and sat on her bed.

“If you don’t get up, we’re never gonna get to town in time. The mall gets busy around four, Uncle Dan,” Abra reminded him. He looked over at the digital clock and wished he hadn’t. It was already one in the afternoon. He sighed and sat up, sliding his feet out of bed and stretching, finally clearing his throat.

“You sleep okay?” Dan asked, just like every single time Abra had to sleep on that damned thing, and just as he thought she would, she said she had and asked the same.

“Didn’t mean to sleep that long,” He admitted, “When did you wake up?”

Abra shrugged and smiled, “A few hours ago. You’re used to working late. You don’t have to apologize for sleeping in every time I-”

“I didn’t apologize-” Abra gave him a look and he closed his mouth immediately before chuckling.

“Can’t blame me for feeling bad, missing out on time with my best friend,” Dan teased, standing and stretching. After a stop at his dresser, he padded to the bathroom, stepping in before peeking back out, “You good for a few minutes? We’ll be ready to leave soon,” He promised, earning a nod in return.

Dan did his morning routine, cleaning up after himself. He’d skipped shaving, though snow wouldn’t come until October. Even so, he scrubbed his hand over the long stubble there, smiling and electing instead to get dressed.

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The mall had enough people filing in and out of stores and around stands and cutting in front of the two to make their individual anxiety feed off of each other. Abra had mumbled a small apology for thinking it wouldn’t have heavy traffic until later, but Dan only shook his head and offered her his hand.

She took it and her free hand clutched the strap of her mostly empty backpack, which she’d only brought to hold things they bought but was now helping her stay grounded despite its lack of weight.

Abra had never been bad with groups of people. Not until recently. She’d grown up used to the looks she could potentially get, for more than one reason, and had trained herself to drown out the masses of voices that weren’t there blending with the ones that were.

But it was easy to let your guard down. To look away for a moment and lose everything.

Abra no longer tuned crowds out, not completely. She would let some of the voices in, if only to keep an ear out for danger.

She was older now, grown in the only ways it counted even if she wished she wasn’t, even if she was still technically a child. She figured she was traumatized, and it wasn’t a surprise, but she was also strong and smart and no therapist could help her work through what she and Dan had been through together.

She squeezed Dan’s hand and he squeezed hers in return. She knew that day would end with emotional exhaustion and comfortable silence.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan kept hold of Abra’s hand in every store, as much for himself as it was for her. They didn’t speak a single word aloud to each other for the two, nearly three, hours that they were in the mall. That was okay.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Abra very nearly flopped herself onto the ground after trying to collapse onto her air mattress, having to correct her balance before potentially busting her face open on the wooden ground. When the threat of hitting the floor was gone, Dan laughed. He had to pause, hands on his thighs as his stomach tightened with the sound, laughing harder than he’d expected at something so dramatic.

“You- You have to be more care-” Dan inhaled mid-thought, “More careful than that.”

Dan pretended he didn’t see her flipping him off, wiping his hand over his face and sighing as he sat on his bed and took his shoes off. Abra was next to him before he realized it, a bag of purchased items held out to her side in front of Dan.

“Are you going to wrap it?” She asked, letting him take the bag. He shrugged and put the bag on the bed. Her eyes fell to the floor at the sound of footsteps, faint but there.

“Do you think that’s Dean?” She whispered like they could hear the two of them and Dan nodded.

“He was supposed to-” Dan realized he was whispering too, clearing his throat and speaking again, not much louder than his former whisper, “He said Dean planned on coming up soon to drop off a car anyways, and if it’s his birthday tomorrow, who else could it be?”

Abra seemed to consider this for a long moment, eyes on the floor again. Dan followed her gaze, staring at the floor long enough to nearly lose his focus. The edge of his sight blurred and he could see the outline of most of the room below, as well as the three people. He blinked the unfocused feeling away and glanced up at Abra, but she was already looking at him.

“Three? It has to be Jack, right?” She asked excitedly. Abra’s general excitement towards Sam, as well as the other living Winchesters, was something she hid poorly if at all. Dan could understand the excitement. Sam was wonderful to be around and, in that respect, it was Dan’s turn to poorly hide something: how fond he was of that man. His eyes darted to the bag and the warmth he felt only grew, joined with something nervous, something hopeful.

When Dan’s eyes found Abra again, they were wide, eager, and expectant. She raised her eyebrows and he sighed.

“I wanted to-”

“Abra, he has family visiting-”

“Which means now is the _perfect_ time. Aren’t you boyfriends? What if you don’t have another chance to meet Dean for who knows how long? He lives a full time _dangerous_ job-” Abra cut herself off when she recognized that Dan had tensed up and looked away, hands now in front of him and fiddling with each other. Upon further studying, his face was pink and the room was warmer. It was rare for him to project so strongly that she could feel what he was feeling without that little _push_.

“I mean- We don’t have to if you’re that nervous, Uncle Dan, I just- Well, I thought because you and Sam are-” Dan glanced at her and quickly looked away, eyes widening as he began to laugh, trying to play off the way he was blindsided by a single word. He’d admonish himself if he could get his thoughts straight, but he didn’t even have time for that before Abra figured him out.

“A-Are you not?”

“No- I mean, yes, I think? Sorry, I-” Dan laughed and shook his head, “Just the first time it’s been said out loud, I guess.” It wasn’t completely a lie, but he preferred it over the full truth. Abra didn’t seem fully convinced, but her skepticism melted away and her excitement came back full force, enough to add a staticky energy to the room. It was a welcomed distraction from the previous embarrassment.

Until he realized that it meant Abra’s interest in going to the room below his had been renewed the very second he’d assured her he was fine. He opened his mouth to speak and was prompt cut off by a smaller hand snatching his up and leading him to the door.

“Abra-”

“C’mon, I know you’re just pulling the responsible adult crap, Uncle Dan,” Abra sneered playfully, pulling him into the hallway and giving him time to close the door before leading him to the stairs. He _did_ want to see Sam, but he didn’t know if Dean and Jack knew about him or knew about _Sam_ , and he may not be experienced in being in a relationship, but he knew common fucking decency and dropping in on your boyfriend when it was quite possible that his visiting family were unaware of something as sensitive as one’s sexuality _didn’t_ fall under that category.

So, he reasoned, he’d just be friendly. Not too friendly, but friendly. Neighborly. Warm and polite. He and Abra were on the last step when he wondered in passing what car Sam had been given by Dean and if Dean looked how he’d imagined him and if he’d ever get over the fact that Jack was technically, like, three years old, and suddenly they were in front of Sam’s door.

Dan squeezed Abra’s hand once, letting go to smooth his hands over his shirt, hands catching on the lip of his jeans where the shirt was tucked into them, considering untucking the shirt specifically because he was overthinking it to distract himself from how close Abra was to knocking. She didn’t need to. The door opened within seconds of their arrival and Dan looked up and his hands stopped in their tracks as his and Sam’s eyes landed on each other.

He caught the beginnings of a smile pulling at the corners of his own lips, mirroring Sam’s, and they two said a simple, almost breathless, “Hey,” almost simultaneously. Sam stepped towards him, and Dan didn’t need to guess twice what was coming and he fully welcomed it, wanted it, had apparently craved it more than he thought and-

Abra cleared her throat. Sam stopped in his tracks and his eyes fell downward several inches, face lighting up in a different way.

“Well, if it isn’t Abra Stone,” He said warmly, as if he’d known her for years, seen her grow up, and had just happened across her in a mom and pop deli in a quaint town square and wanted to make himself known in a familiar, affectionate way.

“Well, if it isn’t Sam Winchester,” Abra beamed, her toothy grin pulling her cheeks up sharply, pushing the corners of her eyes into creases.

“I thought that was you up there,” Sam winked and turned his attention back to Dan, “Sorry- For not texting, I mean. Been a bit busy,” he explained, looking ashamed as if it hadn’t been only two days since the last text Dan had gotten from him.

“Oh- Don’t worry about it. I mean it, I’m not very high maintenance, I promise,” Dan put his hands up, smiling, “Plus, it was her idea to come down to meet you. She has to leave tomorrow night and didn’t know when a good time to drop in would be w- with your company.”

Dan barely glanced past Sam’s shoulder and could see a man sitting on the edge of the bed, a beer in one hand, his other forearm resting on his thigh with his hand dangling off limply. He made eye contact with Dan, squinted, and took a long sip of the only thing in the room Dan was _actually_ scared of, including the Devil’s child. A protective older brother was nothing compared to temptation. Dan brought his attention back to Sam, but he and Abra had been talking for however long he’d let himself get washed up in the thought.

“Would you like to come in? We’re about to watch slasher flicks,” Sam chuckled, and the offer sounded like it was for Abra, but he was looking at Dan, hope crossing over his features. How could he refuse? Dan nodded hesitantly and Sam let them in.

There had been a drastic change in furniture since the last time Dan had made an appearance in the room, at least a temporary one. There were two folded cots against the wall next to the window, the sitting chair repositioned in a different corner, a few beanbag chairs, and the bed was mussed and skewed. Dan knew why he didn’t realize why Dean was sitting on a lopsided bed and he quickly realized they’d been in the middle of moving the bed to have its side against the wall, effectively creating more sitting space, when Sam had answered the door. Dan shoved his hands in his pockets until he saw Dean put his beer down and stand, Sam approaching. They both lifted the bed and that’s when Dan stepped forward, speaking up.

“Do you need-”

“We got it,” Dean said shortly. Sam cut a look upwards at him, shooting an apologetic one to Dan after. Dan shook his head, offering a small smile. When the bed was positioned how they’d wanted, Sam stood back and stepped backward until he was side-by-side with Dan, his hand finding the small of the older man’s back. Dan relaxed and glanced at him, not able to help the widening of his smile.

He followed Sam’s eyes as they landed on the brown bottle Dean had already replaced his hand around and he could feel the worry bubbling up.

“ _ **It’s okay, Sammy. I’ll be okay.**_ ” Sam received his message loud and clear, shoulders easing nearly immediately, but a shuffle and a ringing in his ears had him jerking his head over his shoulder and startling, turning and eyeing the boy that had been behind him.

“Hi-”

“How did you do that?” He questioned, and Dan stared at him, glancing between him and Sam. He opened his mouth to answer, but Dean spoke first.

“How did he do _what_ , Jack?” Dan glanced at Dean, then Sam, then Jack and laughed shortly.

“Jack, what are you-” Sam tried to play it off, but Dan raised his hand.

“I’m a telepath,” Dan explained simply, as if that was all, when it most definitely wasn’t, “Among other things. But I- I was just projecting to Sam, I didn’t know you could just hear it, I’m sorry-”

“You can read minds?” Dean asked, his tone nothing short of accusatory.

“Well-” Dan shrugged and tried to keep his mood light, but he didn’t know how to explain himself in a brief and concise way, not when he was being backed into a corner.

“We shine, we have special powers but-” Abra started.

“We?” Dean asked. There were too many voices going back and forth for Dan’s taste, and for his comfortability.

“We were just born like this- And- And not in the way you think? We just- We have magic or shine or just powers, whatever you want to call it, we can do things normal people can’t, but we’re fully human. Scouts honor,” Dan blurted, trying his best not to stammer over his words, but Jack had stepped closer and the ringing in his ears was increasing with Jack’s suspicion.

The room felt smaller than before, warmer, and Dan wished he’d stayed upstairs, not meeting Dean’s eye as he glared at Dan, trying to size him up, but before he could step forward, Sam’s hand was against Dean’s chest and he cleared his throat.

“This is unnecessary, Dean. They’re fine,” He said tersely, cutting Dean a look. Dan could feel Abra relax when Dean stayed where he was, sighing and backing off like he wanted to say more, wanted to chew Sam’s ass, or maybe Dan’s, and Dan was thankful for it, but his heart rate was steady and in the upper 200’s, if he had to take a guess.

Was he exaggerating? Yes. He felt he deserved to.

As soon as Jack backed off and Abra went right into trying to start a conversation with him, the tension gripping the room already melting away except for the inner corner of the bed where Dean had planted his ass and had his feet hanging off, Dan let out a deep exhale. Sam looked him in the eyes and brought both of his hands to Dan’s face and Dan nodded, patting the backs of his hands gently, ignoring the shift from malice to confusion from Dean’s sulk.

Confusion soon turned to embarrassment. Dan could hear him gulp down the rest of the bottle and stand back up, and he ignored him and silently assured Sam it was fine, that he understood, that he didn’t have to worry or risk upset from his family for him.

Ignoring Dean simply wasn’t in the cards, apparently, because as Sam nodded and took Dan’s hand, ready to lead him to the bed just as the lights went off and a projector shined on the wall past where Jack and Abra were slumped into bean bag chairs, Dan and Dean very nearly bumped into each other. A cold, freshly condensating, and open clear brown bottle was pushed into Dan’s free hand, a peace offering, an apology.

Dan nearly dropped the bottle, stammering and catching it as it slid and almost slipped from his fingers.

“Dean-” Sam started, and Dean assumed what he was going to say and cut him off.

“If Sammy says you’re fine, then you’re fine. Just don’t poke around, you know what I’m saying?” Dean joked, taking a swig of his own beer after clinking it against Dan’s. Dan didn’t want to refuse, didn’t want to offend him, so he met the clink halfway. He smiled and nodded, squeezing Sam’s hand where it was loosely still held in his.

“I didn’t plan on it, but now that you mention it…” Dan teased, eyebrow perking up, and Dean snorted against a mouth full of liquid bread and shook his head, pointing in some mockery of a threat at Dan as Sam pulled him away. Dan placed the beer on the side table and watched Sam settle into the middle of the bed, back against the wall. It didn’t escape him that the two pillows that were originally at the head of the bed were now propped against the wall in Dean’s and, what he assumed, Dan’s spots. Dan settled next to Sam with a soft sigh and Dean passed in front of them to do the same.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Halfway through the movie, Sam’s head found its way to Dan’s shoulder and Dan’s head to the top of Sam’s. Dan knew he shouldn’t be so content, so willing to accept whatever Sam made him feel, especially so soon, but he didn’t beat himself up about it. That being said, he avoided reasoning that he deserved such a feeling. He wasn’t there yet.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam’s head fit too comfortably against Dan’s shoulder, his hand fit too well in Dan’s hands. He held one of Dan’s between both of his, their fingers interlocked gently, tracing his knuckles with his, technically, free hand. He was staring at the screen, but taking in a solid one percent of the movie, which was fine by him. He’d watched it every year with Dean for the last decade, so he let himself have this.

Sam glanced over at Dean, who was as absorbed in the movie as he was every year, smacking Sam in the arm or the side every time there was a particularly gory scene or something intended to be a jumpscare. Sam would take his hand from Dan’s and swing back and to the side, getting Dean in the arm or stomach each time, earning a grumble and a half-hearted threat.

Sam’s eyes fell on the back of Jack and Abra’s. Every now and then, they’d glance at one another and laugh, but neither spoke for the entirety of the movie. He doubted they were laughing at what was on the screen, instead using their abilities to an advantage other kids didn’t have. Sam smiled at that. Jack didn’t have friends, and Dan seemed to be one of Abra’s only, so there were small blessings all around.

Sam didn’t dwell on the thought, but it felt like just yesterday when his voice was watery in comforting a newborn Jack, a fresh and unmolded Jack, telling him he knew what it was like to feel alone and monstrous and Jack didn’t have to feel that way, not with him. Dan squeezed his hand and Sam wondered if he’d heard him or if he knew that he needed a small comfort in that exact moment. He didn’t mind either way.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

After two movies and too many snacks, Jack and Abra were asleep and slumped in their respective bean bag chairs. Dan stood over her and smiled and knew the way her head had lolled back must not have been comfortable, so he crouched down and picked her up, shifting her in his arms as she moved and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. It had to have been years since she was small enough, young enough, innocent enough to be carried to bed, and he wished the thought hadn’t crossed his mind as he rubbed her back, wanting her to rest.

“Are you coming back down?” Sam asked softly as he opened the door for him. Dan smiled briefly and glanced at Dean.

“Want me to? I won’t be able to sleep until the morning anyways,” He admitted, whispering and holding the back of Abra’s head like she was smaller than she really was. Sam nodded and smiled, so Dan nodded in return, affirming that he’d be back.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

When Sam closed the door, Dan swayed the butt of his freshly empty bottle towards it and raised his eyebrows.

“When did that happen?” He asked, grinning smugly, as if it was his civil duty to shove his nose directly into it. Sam shrugged and felt his face warming, crouching down just as Dan had to lift Jack up and help him into his cot, on top of a few layers of blankets because Jack didn’t like how stiff the cot felt. He covered him and smiled, turning to look at Dean again, expecting it to have been dropped, but his face was just as expectant. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Three weeks ago, roughly,” Sam hummed, taking the warm beer Dan hadn’t touched and dumping it down the sink in the bathroom. Dean leaned against the doorway and watched him.

“Workin’ fast, Sammy. Only been here a month, right?” Sam nodded and Dean hummed, “Is it serious?” Sam looked up at him and glared, lips pursing.

“I hope so.” Dean whistled and chuckled at that. He didn’t wish any ill will, he never did, but was he to blame for worrying that Sam threw himself into the first semblance of normalcy that he happened across after retiring?

“Did you know about that, y’know,” Dean twirled a finger next to his temple, tapping it once, twice, and perking an eyebrow. Sam nodded again. He sighed deeply and decided to stop dancing around it.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan tucked Abra into her air mattress, smoothing baby hairs from her forehead and sighing as softly as he could control. He took his keys and his phone, this time, locking the door behind him. He knew everyone in the small town, and he trusted who Sam trusted, but it eased his worry to ensure he’d locked her in and kept her safe, even if he was only one floor down.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dean was understanding. It’d only taken a moment to fill him in on how he and Dan had met, how Dan had come down and tried to comfort him after a nightmare, how he’d still been having said nightmares. How the friend he’d mentioned weeks before who had told him about something they should keep their ears to the ground for was Dan and his niece. Dean waved his hand at the True Knot business, as they’d promised not to talk about hunting this weekend, but he didn’t miss a single opportunity at poking fun and teasing his little brother for being a hopeless romantic.

He also didn’t miss Sam’s tells. He was hiding something.

“And?”

Sam stared at him, eyebrows shifting to knitted confusion to curving upward in question, “And what? And- And we’re dating? Boy-” He cleared his throat, “Boyfriends?” Dean laughed and shook his head.

“I’m happy for you, but that isn’t what I meant. What aren’t you telling me?”

Sam pursed his lips and fiddled with his fingers.

“I- Well, well he says I shine too,” he mumbled. Dean snorted and Sam brought his eyes back to him.

“I mean it, De. And I believe him,” Sam defended, voice getting higher as it did when he took this tone. Dean put his hands up defensively, shaking them.

“Sam, you haven’t had powers since apocalypse 2.0? 3.0? And even then, your powers were never telepathy and- and- possession? You did the exact _opposite_ of that, you exercised and killed demons. And that was because of the. Well, you know what it was because of,” Dean stated, busying his fingers with ripping the label off of his empty beer.

Sam huffed, anger boiling over his shame, fueling instead of being put out. He didn’t want to argue, he didn’t, but Dean was impossible sometimes. Sam closed his eyes and he focused and he felt Dan walking up the hallway and he _pushed_. He knew exactly what to say, have Dan say, and he pushed.

Dan answered immediately, stopping in his tracks. He was surprised, worried, asking Sam what was wrong, why he was upset, but Sam only asked him for a favor. Sam put a hand up when Dean jumped up, cursing and questioning why blood was all but pouring out of Sam’s nose, which was a hyperbole, but, “Jesus Christ, Sammy-”

Dean’s voice fell out just as he felt the smallest pressure, the slightest indication, and heard Dan’s voice saying one word and leaving as quickly as he arrived. Dean twisted around, expecting Dan to have been standing behind him, but, no. Dan had said ‘poughkeepsie’ as clear as day in Dean’s head, and there was no way in fucking hell Sam would just give the word out to pull Dean’s leg about something like this.

Dan didn’t bother knocking, coming in and quickly closing the door and brushing past Dean, leaning down and pushing Sam’s hair from his face. He got blood on his thumb, but it was the least of his worries.

“Sam- Sammy, you can’t do that. You can’t push yourself like that, you hear me? Look at me,” Dan said, voice hushed and worried about only Sam, not about the other people in the room. He kissed Sam’s forehead and when he pulled away, there was a smear of his own blood on Sam’s skin, making him bring his fingers to his face, only then realizing he had matching streaks of blood down his face and lips.

Sam laughed and shook his head, holding the sides of Dan’s face the same, pecking his lips once, twice, three times, before smirking, “It worked, though, didn’t it?” Dean scoffed behind Dan and the oldest of the three turned and looked at him. Dean’s eyes widened only slightly, realizing that even if Sam would give one of their code words away, there was no explanation for some kind of telepathic bullshit shared nosebleed. He wordlessly walked to the bathroom and grabbed two clean, white rags (if only to piss Sam off) and wet them with warm water. He squeezed them out gently, bringing them back to the other two and sighing.

“Sorry, again.”

Dan shrugged, but Sam grinned and stared up at Dean from where he’d been sitting.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“Huh?” Dan’s confusion only made them laugh, but it wasn’t at his expense.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

“Want one?” Dean asked this time, holding two bottles out. He’d stored the pack in the kitchen fridge, the three of them sitting inside with the door closed so as to not bother any of the neighbors. Sam put his hand up and declined, but Dan watched a look pass over his face. Guilt.

Dan accepted his, causing Sam’s face to twist up as he opened the bottle and slid it to Sam.

“Not made of glass, Sammy,” He assured him, aloud this time. Sam’s cheeks pinkened and Dan wanted to kiss them, watching him as he took his first sip.

“You sober, Dan?” Dean asked, leaning back in his chair once he sat down. Dan turned his attention to him and nodded.

“Ten years in less than half a year,” Dan admitted, opting to get up and nick a can of diet soda from the dozen pack on the counter, finding his seat again. He smiled and met Dean’s eyes briefly and he could tell Dean was trying to find something to relate to Dan’s admission.

“Me and Sammy had to go to group meets when we became born-again virgins to figure out why virgins were being kidnapped.”

Dan choked on the lukewarm carbonated liquid that he would have preferred to have continued making its way down his throat instead of splashing into his face and travelling up into his nose. He stared at the can and laughed, pinching his nose and standing up before Sam could, who’d already shoved his chair back to do so. Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, much less the reaction.

“Well?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows. Dean made a face and leaned in.

“Well, what?”

“Well, why were virgins being kidnapped?” Dan asked curiously and Dean looked like he hadn’t considered Dan actually being interested in the rest of the story. Sam laughed, knowing the dumbfounded face better than anyone.

Dean cleared his throat and began, bottle clinking down on the table as he leaned forward. Dan could tell before he even began that Dean was someone that spoke with his hands, illustrating emphasis and tonality with motion, and he was already more than interested in what he had to say.

“A Goddess, Vesta, right, Sammy?” He glanced at Sam who nodded and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, “So, Vesta. Nasty Goddess that liked to keep virgins as servants, but if her servants, you know, broke their vow, she’d bury them alive. So, of _course_ Sammy and me had to become born-again cherries, signed papers and everything. Really, I thought a dragon was the villain of the story, but that wasn’t until-” Dean cleared his throat and shook his head, not wanting to get off track, “Anyways, I walked our group leader home because I _swear_ I’d seen her somewhere before, and we get there and Sam starts blowing up my phone

“Well, I ignore his calls because, y’know,” Dean smirked and perked up his eyebrows. Sam sighed next to Dan, causing Dan to glance at him in confusion, “I was right when I said I knew her. She was a former porn star, leading a born again virgin group in a town that, just my luck, had a Goddess with a hard on for virgins breaking their vows. Which, yes, Sam, I would have known if I had answered your calls.”

“Thank you.”

“Seeing as I didn’t know that little detail, we hooked up. Just as I go to leave afterwards, _whoosh_ blue flame shit everywhere and we’re in the sewers with the other victims. Up above, though, our Sammy and a friend of ours named Jody showed Vesta where she could shove it and bam, day saved.”

Dan laughed, warming when Dean referred to Sam as theirs, something shared and precious, yet still powerful and standing strong. Sam snorted and shook his head, pointing his beer at Dean.

“You say that as if you had any part in the actual day-saving that hunt. All you did was deflower your favorite pornstar,” Sam sneered playfully, dimples showing through despite his best efforts. Dan stifled a chuckle and leaned to the side as a wadded paper towel was thrown as Sam.

“ _My_ day was saved by my actions, Sam, and the victims were fine, so that’s all that matters,” Dean puffed his chest out, eye glimmering as he looked at Sam out the corner of his eye while downing the last half of his beer. He sighed and stood up, groaning and catching himself mid-yawn.

“Bedtime for me. Dan, it was nice meeting you,” Dean outstretched his hand and Dan stood, wiping his own on his pant leg before taking Dean’s.

“It was nice meeting you, too, Dean. Glad you didn’t take my head off,” Dan tried to joke, Dean chuckling and shaking it briskly, taking his hand back and grabbing his jacket off the chair.

“You crazy kids don’t stay up too late,” Dean teased.

“He’s older than you,” Sam added quickly, just as Dean was halfway out the door, causing him to pause and glance back.

“How much older?” Dean asked Sam instead of Dan, which Dan thought was unnecessary, seeing as he could answer his _own_ age, but Sam seemed to have only said it to push Dean’s buttons, so Dan spoke first.

“Oh, I’m fifty. Fifty one in-” Dean balked and stammered, trying to find his verbal footing, visibly trying to accept the answer he’d been given when Sam barked a loud laugh, pushing Dan to the side, causing Dan to break, his own laughter joining Sam’s.

“He’s forty-five, Dean. Go to bed.” Dean let out a breath and relaxed, chewing his lip and decidedly not speaking again as he left, flipping Sam off as he walked down the hallway, leaving the kitchen door open just to add to his audacity.

It was quiet for a moment, Sam closing the door as silently as he could as if to make up for his abrupt laughter. Once he settled in his seat, turned halfway towards Dan, he grinned warmly, his own need for sleep obvious in his eyes.

“That went well,” Dan noted, not entirely intending for the last word to pitch up into a question mark, revealing how hopeful he was to be correct. Sam nodded and placed his hand on Dan’s.

“You’d definitely know if it hadn’t. Dean’s passive aggressive and would have continuously made remarks at your expense if he didn’t at least _want_ to like you,” Sam explained softly, head propped up on his free hand against the table while he looked at Dan. Dan was already warmer, felt softer around the edges under Sam’s gaze and he opted subconsciously to mirror the man, propping his head up the same way.

“Does he like me, or does he want to like me, Sammy?” Dan asked, a smile playing on his lips. He was starting to understand the scenes he’d hardly ever paid any attention to in romcoms. Sam’s laugh was closer to a giggle before he answered.

“I think he likes you, Doc,” Sam’s voice lowered sweetly, nodding as he leaned in, both hands finding Dan’s jaw less than a second before he pressed his lips to his, Dan meeting him in the middle. Dan leaned in closer, refusing to laugh at how awkward the jerky screech of his chair scooting across the floor just so he could get closer, truly appreciate the kiss, the touch, get his hands into Sam’s hair so his fingers could dance at the nape of his neck. Though he refused to laugh, Sam didn’t, giggling into the kiss and deepening it.

Dan was eager to part his lips, moving in time with Sam and letting one of his hands fall to the side of his neck instead, the fingers in his hair pushing up and feeling his hair card through his fingers, tickling the skin there. Sam’s mouth tasted like beer, but more so of mint and black licorice and Dan thought that maybe that was his new favorite taste. Sam would tell him later how he tasted like the jelly beans he’d had during the movie and diet soda and warmth and Dan would look at him and wonder why he thought to include warmth as a taste, but it would fall short and he would know without needing an answer.

Dan’s fingers curled into Sam’s hair, not exactly tugging, but wrapping themselves up in him the only way they could and Sam relaxed into it, almost pushing back towards his hand if not for the risk of pulling away from Dan. Dan took that as signal to pull his hand towards them both, giving Sam the closeness he wanted without taking away-

Dan’s alarm went off. Sam jolted, perking up and patting his pocket for his own phone before his eyes landed on Dan’s. Dan himself was utterly confused as to why it was nearly two in the morning and his alarm was going on, but when he opened it to dismiss, the note said, “Text Sam,” and he remembered, face flushing more than what could have possibly been caused by the kiss. The kiss he’d interrupted. Resentment.

“Is everything okay?” Sam asked, expecting it to have been a text or call from Abra or, worse, Lucy. Dan nodded and chuckled, taking Sam’s hands in his and sighing.

“I didn’t expect you to invite us to hang out with you, so I set an alarm to text you when I knew you’d be asleep so you could wake up to it,” Dan confessed, sighing almost dramatically, shaking his head. Sam’s eyebrows went up and his head moved visibly as he searched Dan’s eyes, “Happy birthday, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes went wide and he laughed, shaking Dan’s hands gently in his, but he knew he’d be doing it regardless if Dan’s were joined with his or not, the fact making his smile widen.

“How’d you know?”

“Abra did a background check-”

“Smart girl.”

“- and told me last night. You don’t get your gift until I wake up, though,” Dan leaned forward and kissed Sam’s nose, getting more and more comfortable with initiating affection with him. He’d be proud of himself if he could make himself care, his exhaustion promising the impending fall into bed soon.

The thought of sleeping with Sam, his head against Dan’s chest and Dan’s hand in his hair to comfort him if he stirred, the thought of Sam clinging to him amidst a nightmare and Dan being able to will those images away and bring something better to the front… The thought of Dan being able to provide the a comfort steeped in trust and warmth and lo-

“Aw, why not,” Sam pouted, jutting his lip out comically.

“Because I’m too tired to walk up and down those stairs as many times as it’ll take for me to give it to you right now,” Dan offered the truth, bringing Sam’s hands to his face and kissing the backs of them, thumbing over where his lips had pressed. Sam tilted his head from side to side like the thought was weighing back and forth, sighing a huffy sigh and conceded.

“Alright, but you gotta let me walk you to your room,” Sam bargained, to which Dan raised a suspicious eyebrow. Sam raised his hands and smiled innocently, “Promise I don’t want the gift tonight.”

“I know, I just think you don’t have to walk me to my room to get a kiss goodnight,” Dan accused, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He forced it down just as Sam gasped, feigning shock at the accusation.

“I would _never_ come up with an excuse just to kiss you.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to?” Dan asked, sounding all too put out, surprising himself in his own delivery.

“I’ll decide when we get to your door,” Sam mused, grinning and standing up, and holding his hand out for Dan. Dan didn’t bother pushing his chair in when he stood up, taking Sam’s hand and letting him lead the way upstairs.

At Dan’s door, they spoke in hushed whispers and their cheeks were warm and Dan waited patiently and expectantly. Sam stared at him for almost too long before his hands were on Dan’s cheeks, cupping over them with his pinkies slotted under his earlobes comfortably. When he stepped forward, Dan stepped back passively, expecting a wall but meeting the door instead. When Sam kissed him, it was the first time Dan’s hands spread over his chest instead of mirroring him or holding his face in a similar fashion to Sam holding his.

The kiss was slow and tender and Dan felt an ache that should have been familiar, but he’d be lying if he said he’d ever felt it before in his entire life, and he doubted anyone else could ever make him produce it. The realization made him feel drunk. He was woozy with it, fingers clutching at Sam’s shirt with no intention but to feel the warmth of his chest against his white-pink knuckles.

When Sam pulled away, Dan felt like he could go limp. Sam’s eyes were warm and only on him, forehead pressing against Dan’s briefly before he thumbed over his right cheek and straightened up.

“How dare you leave the question of a goodnight kiss hanging in the air then make my knees weak?” Dan tried to accuse playfully, but instead of a gentle anger slipping into his voice, his tone was nothing but tender. His cheeks got warm because Sam’s did. Or Sam’s got warm because of Dan’s. It was getting harder to differentiate, harder to specify to himself who was feeling what first, and with each day that passed, he found that he minded less and less.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan had intended that Abra be with him when he gave Sam his gifts, which were neatly packed into a shoebox and covered in tissue paper before being wrapped in a plain brown wrapping paper with a twine bow, but Lucy had called and asked if she could get on an earlier bus back. She didn’t have a specific reason, but Abra was amenable to the request, and Dan wouldn’t usurp the requests of the parent in favor of his own wishes.

So Dan had taken the gift with him in walking her down the stairs and to the bus. They’d passed Sam’s room to attempt to give it to him in passing, but none of the three men were in the room, so Abra assured Dan it was alright and that he could tell her if Sam liked the gifts later on. He nodded and stayed quiet until the bus came.

As the few passengers boarded before Abra, he hugged his niece and kissed the crown of her head and told her he loved her and to let him know he got home safe. As always, her wide, toothy grin lit up across her face and he placed another kiss on her hairline, the uppermost spot of her forehead, and sent her on her way. He didn’t walk away until the bus turned down a different road up ahead and it was no longer in his sight.

As he approached his building once more, suddenly more acutely aware of the fact that he’d have to give the gift to Sam not only alone, but with other people around as well that could potentially judge his choice in gifts, having known Sam for much longer than Dan would ever have the chance to. He held the package in both hands, close to his body but not touching, as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. As he neared Sam’s door, he knew they’d returned by the sound of the radio and the chatter inside.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t consider leaving it on the welcome mat and walking away, but he swallowed a sigh and took a deep breath instead, sucking it up and knocking on the door.

Dean answered. Dan raised his eyebrows and smiled nervously, thumbs sliding along the top, side corners of the box.

“Sam’s in the shower,” Dean told him, eyes dropping to the box before he laughed softly, a short chuckle of a noise that Dan could see in his shoulders, “Do you want to come in and wait? Maybe he doesn’t know you’re here.”

Dan could hear the teasing in his voice, could hear how his voice dropped like this was an inside joke between the two of them. He’d know the man for less than twenty-four hours and they already had somewhat of an inside joke. Either Dean was easier than he expected or Dan was likeable.

Dan doubted Sam knew he was there. He didn’t push, didn’t listen in, but what he did do was something close to dropping in, in a way. Nonetheless, he didn’t feel any indication that Sam knew he was there and Dean was allowing him to come inside, so Dan nodded and smiled warmly, stepping around him when Dean stepped to the side.

Jack was sitting on the bed, but got up and met Dan in the middle, offering his hand. It didn’t take a trained eye to realize that this was a little awkward and something neither of them were used to.

“I’m sorry for invading your privacy last night. I didn’t mean to and don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot. I want us to get along because- Because you make Sam happy and if Sam trusts you then I trust-” Dean cleared his throat and Jack’s eyes darted to him and back to Dan before his cheeks tinged with pink, “- you.”

Dan’s face got warm and he wondered what Sam told him or if Sam even had to tell him anything to begin with, but he nodded shortly and took Jack’s hand after shifting the box under one arm, shaking it gently, but firmly.

“I don’t mind. A little taste of what it’s like to be on the receiving end- That is, outside of conversational- Well, you know,” Dan bit off his sentence before he started rambling, letting Jack pull his hand away first. Jack grinned and shifted from one foot to another, once, twice.

“Did Abra go home already?”

Dan smiled and nodded. Jack didn’t seem nervous for any reason other than he was excited to have a friend in his age range that was like him but didn’t know how to request that friendship to continue.

“Do you have a cell phone?” Dan asked him, pulling his phone out, watching Jack nod quickly.

“I can give her your number if you like. I could- I could tell you were both relieved, right? To find a friend?” Dan asked patiently, voice softer than it was nervous now. Jack nodded again, hesitantly this time. Dan could feel Dean’s protective eyes on them both, fatherly, wary, and Dan didn’t blame him. He was already asking a lot for Dean to trust him and Abra.

Jack listed off the digits of his number and Dan texted Abra, telling her that Jack wanted to be friends if she wanted to be, attaching Jack’s contact to the message and saving it into his own phone as well. He’d get Dean’s later, whether from him or Sam. He didn’t know why it felt important to have some form of communication left open just in case.

He showed Jack the message when he was finished and Jack gave him a nod, smiling wide again.

Dan found a seat on the foot of the bed, lapping the box and sighing softly. He tapped the box gently, the edges of his nails making a higher noise than the blunts of the sides and pads of his fingers. Dean was eyeing him again, and if he couldn’t feel the brotherly teasing behind the mask of an apprehensive expression, he wouldn’t know what to make of it.

It hit him that the shower was no longer running and that he could hear Sam clearing his throat, and the silence was soon filled with the sound of a blow dryer. Logically, he knew Sam would take care of his hair and that it looked healthy and clean every time he saw him, but the imagery of Sam blow drying his hair was now subjective and precious to him. Every day that Sam was in his life, he wished more and more that he could lock memories in special boxes and keep them forever.

His nerves calmed, but his foot wiggled from side to side in anticipation, perking up when the bathroom door knob turned and the door started to open.

He did not know why he expected Sam, who was expecting only family to be in his room, to come out of the bathroom fully dressed. Thinking back on it, he definitely shouldn’t have, as the dresser next to the bathroom door had a pile of neatly folded clothes on top of it and Dan knew very well that there wasn’t any actual counter space in the bathroom.

And yet, Dan was surprised regardless when Sam came out of the bathroom with freshly dried hair, still damp nearly everywhere else, with a towel around his waist. Dan’s eyes went wide, and he would swear he didn’t mean to glance at every spot of Sam that he was just now seeing, before he made eye contact with him. Sam, of course, also forgot that he was only in a towel and lit up like a Christmas tree, dimples digging into his light tan cheeks underneath his growing-by-the-day stubble. Dan held the eye contact, even smiling back, for all of ten seconds before his eyes were glancing down again and he firmly decided to wrench his head backwards and instead stare at the ceiling.

Dan was so preoccupied with refusing to look at Sam that he’d forgotten Jack and Dean were even in the room, and Sam sputtered when he remembered his state of undress, snatching his pile of clothes and laughing nervously as he backed into the bathroom. Dan didn’t look down again until he heard it click, but he regretted it instantly.

He could feel how red his face was. He might as well have been a fucking strawberry. And only then did he remember that he wasn’t alone in the room.

Dean lost it. He was laughing and sounded more baffled than anything, and it took him almost the entirety of Sam’s stay in the bathroom to regain his composure before he remarked on it.

“Well, at least you’re a gentleman. Acting like you’ve never seen him like that just ‘cause his family’s in the room, I mean,” And Dean really believed it as it came out of his mouth. Dan stared at him and a bit off, nervous laugh escaped his throat before he looked away, nodding and agreeing even though it was the farthest thing from the truth. Dan hadn’t seen Sam shirtless for two seconds a month before in the near-dark, and that was it.

The most heated thing that had ever happened between them were the kisses from the night before - that morning - and Dan was okay with that, but Dean’s assumption that he’d have already been with Sam embarrassed him more than he thought it would.

Dean was already making another joke about it, glancing at Dan and trailing off mid-sentence.

“Oh.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well.”

Dan could feel the gears in Dean’s head turning and trying to figure out how to respond to the situation and the newfound uncomfortable silence.

“Well. There’s- Y’know, there’s nothing wrong with taking it slow- Or never doing it! You don’t have to do anything and it’s not anybody’s relationship but yours, so. Don’t. Don’t uhm- Feel pressured to rush or do anything? Right? And I didn’t- You know. I still think you’re a gentleman-”

“Dean, shut up.”

Dan jerked his head up towards Sam, who was now fully dressed, and felt tension he hadn’t yet realized was building in his shoulders release at once.

“It’s fine- I just- I didn’t know how to reply. Sorry, Dean,” Dan explained after clearing his throat, face still hot and throat still tight despite his best, brief effort. Dean raised one hand and shook his head, obviously wanting to drop it as much as Dan did, but Dan more than appreciated the sentiments Dean at least tried to convey.

When he looked at Sam, his cheeks were pink, but not as badly as Dan’s had been, so Dan counted small blessings that the embarrassment was passing quickly for both of them. He glanced down at the package in his lap when Sam did, chuckling nervously and ignoring the small dented press of fingertips where he’d absentmindedly clenched up.

Sam crossed the room and smiled, leaning down and kissing Dan’s forehead before nudging his leg with his, silently requesting he scoot over to give room for Sam to sit next to him. Dan obliged, leaning over to kiss Sam’s cheek once he was sat next to him, hands in his own lap and his ankles crossed and extended out, heels propped on the floor.

His smile widened and he nodded to the box.

“That mine?”

Dan shook his head, “Nope, it’s for me and Dean to share.”

Sam pouted and Dan grinned, taking the opportunity to kiss his jutted lower lip and giggle, pushing the box into Sam’s lap, “Of course it’s yours.”

Seeing Sam’s face light up because of him had become one of his favorite things in the world weeks ago, but he figured it was going to feel better each and every time. Sam tore into the wrapping paper considerately, not wanting to make a mess or seem too giddy to see what was inside. He didn’t even like gifts. That’s what he told himself for the last two decades, at least.

Dean and Jack had taken to watching Sam unwrap the gift, Dean sighing as if he was at all surprised with his baby brother’s behavior, as if he hadn’t seen a similar display everytime he was ever given a gift. He opened it and pulled the tissue paper out, face softening immediately.

“Oh, Dan…”

“Do you like it?” Dan asked tentatively, pulling gently at his own fingers and staring at the kettle and selection of fidget toys, as well as a monster coloring book with those twisty coloring pencils (both tucked under the kettle and toys, specifically a gift from Abra as an attempt at humor just to let him know she was also thinking of him). Sam nodded and chewed his lip, smiling.

“Well, do we get to see what the man got you, or what, Sammy?” Dean asked, and only then did Sam pull the kettle out by the handle to show it off. Dan’s shoulders rolled inward as he saw the clear kettle that matched his own in the sense that it was also floral and clear, but a different color and flower scheme, was shown to the other two and revealed that it had several tea bag packets inside. Dan had taken a few of each of his favorite flavors from his own collected and left them in their wrappers, stuffing them all inside the kettle so that Sam at least could taste each one and decide what flavors he enjoyed and didn’t enjoy.

Hanging from the handle was a pea pod toy identical to the one Dan had already seen with Sam before, and the toys in the box shirked their way from the walls of the box to fill the hole the kettle had left upon removal.

Dean looked a little impressed that Dan had put more thought into the gift than he’d expected and Jack was now at Sam’s side grinning.

“Always good to have more of these, in case you lose or break something,” He noted. There was affection in his voice and Sam only nodded, smiling and digging under the toys to retrieve the coloring book and pencils that Abra had chosen.

It got the laugh that she had wanted, from everybody in the room.

“Tell her I said thank you for this, really,” Sam laughed and flipped through it quickly, the pages making an airy, fluttery noise as they passed the pad of his thumb and landed on their mates. He put it back into the box, along with the kettle, and sighed happily, eyes lingering on the box for a moment longer.

“And thank _you_ for this as well. I mean it, I- I really love it, this is a wonderful gift,” Sam said sweetly, leaning over and kissing Dan’s cheek softly. It left an imprint on Dan, whether it could be seen or not, and burned right through him.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Saying goodbye to Dean and Jack that night didn’t suck. He felt comfortable with the terms he was on with each of the two, even though Dean had stopped before rounding his car to look Dan in the eye and point at him threateningly.

“You know what I’m going to say?”

“I promise I’ll keep his heart safe, Dean,” Dan said, and he wished it was lighter and more amusing, but Dean seemed satisfied enough with the promise as it was.

“Good, because I’ll kill you if you don’t,” He promised.

“I’d deserve it, I think.”

“Damn right you would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to leave a kudos and comment if you enjoyed! Hope you love these dummies as much as I do, but it's doubtful, as I would do literally anything to make them smile.
> 
> playlist made for sam and dan (I'm open to suggestions!): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4FB3F9NKNHIpxmIFaVI1Nm?si=UxrzFloMQhOimkzn-hjc_Q
> 
> ko-fi: dumbheathen  
> insta: tcnyyy  
> discord: azzie#0166  
> twitter: VO1Drent


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dan get more comfortable practicing interacting with their Shine. All is well until their nightmares bleed into each other's and they have to face each other's worst memories at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for the long delay! Life's a bitch and so is ADHD, homies. I hope you enjoy the chapter! The child abuse and sexual assault tags are ONLY there as a warning, but I left everything as vague as I could while still being obvious as to what is being hinted at. There is no details of sexual assault. The child abuse is only a quick description of Jack Torrance breaking Dan's arm, as described in the book and both movies.
> 
> If you enjoyed, leave a kudos and a comment! They make my day every single time I get one haha.
> 
> Insta: tcnyyy, rrrenton  
> Twitter: VO1Drent  
> Ko-Fi: dumbheathen

Sam had asked Dan if they could start practicing. He wanted to learn more about his shine and try his best to get comfortable with it and, preferably, put a stop to the nosebleeds. Dan was happy to agree, only he didn’t know the first thing about actually mentoring or teaching another person how to do something like this. Dick was great at it; he’d taken to little Danny quickly and Dan suddenly wasn’t alone in the world anymore. Abra would claim that Dan did a great job teaching her to control herself but never, ever stifle herself or hide it, contrary to the first time they met, but Dan always felt awkward when giving advice or answering questions on how something was supposed to feel or happen.

Shining didn’t take much out of Dan anymore. It wasn’t an exertion of power like it used to be when he first started acknowledging and accepting it again, and before he’d started trying to shove it down as deep as he possibly could, it was never hard for him to display his shine. It was just natural. It was natural now. It took more out of him trying _not_ to use it, which he figured he should consider a blessing compared to the alternative.

How is he supposed to actively guide and teach another person how to use something that comes so naturally to him? He wasn’t sure, but Sam needed to learn, and more importantly, he wanted to. So Dan would take up the reigns and do what was needed of him to make the man feel more whole.

It took a whole week of communication for Sam - and by proxy, Dan - to stop having nosebleeds. Another two weeks of working at it every day to have a complete and mutual conversation with each other. It happened while Dan was in Teenytown, the distance surprising him, but he knew that Sam was a quick learner, and pride doubly swelled in his chest.

_**“Dan?”** _

_**“I’m here, Sammy,”**_ Dan had said, smiling to himself and keeping his eyes on a little girl he’d seen almost trip three times now, and by the looks of the knees of her tights, she’d succeeded in doing so at least once when he wasn’t looking. Was he that clumsy as a kid? Was Sam?

_**“Are you in Teenytown?”** _

_**“Until 3:30, hon. Gonna stop by and see me?”** _

_**“Who else is going to bring you lunch?”** _

Dan laughed and cleared his throat, following along with a kid tugging him by the hand to look at something on the other side of a tree. It was a family of frogs. Dan had crouched down and ooh’d and ah’d at the little, green family and ruffled the kid’s hair, which must have satisfied him because he ran off. Dan stood and found his spot against the train again, keeping watch calmly.

_**“I’ve told you you don’t have to do-”** _

_**“I like doing it, Danny, you know that.”** _

Dan’s face got warm and he felt fingers against his cheek. He lifted his own hand to his opposite cheek and cupped it. It was odd to do so and probably looked even more so to parents who would glance at him or spend time with their children to help with projects. His face got warmer and his own warmth joined it soon enough.

_**“I know. I know.”** _

_**“You sound different here, have I ever told you that?”** _

_**“I’m used to being in here more than out there,”**_ Dan admitted, checking his watch and smiling. He could hear a door close and the faintest of boot steps.

_**“Good thing you don’t have to be alone in here anymore, then.”** _

Several beats. Dan had only fallen quiet because his chest had begun to ache for the younger man again. As if it ever stopped.

 _ **“ If you want,”**_ Sam added softly.

 _ **“Of course I do.”**_ Dan’s face heated on its own volition and he shifted from one foot to the other. He counted heads absentmindedly while he waited. He was satisfied and glad that the number was the same as it had been an hour before, upon the arrival of the bus.

_**“Be there in 5?”** _

_**“I’ll be waiting.”** _

_**“I would hope so.”** _

Dan grinned and, just as promised, Sam arrived within five minutes, but when Dan opened his mouth to greet him, Sam shook his head and put a finger to his own lips, smiling shyly.

_**“Is this okay?”** _

Dan nodded slowly and smiled, leaning in and tilting up towards his toes to plant a gentle kiss on the taller man’s lips. Sam kissed him back gladly, hand on Dan’s shoulder squeezing slightly, just to let him know he was there.

 _ **“I’m gonna start getting spoiled if you keep this up, Sammy,”**_ Dan noted when Sam gave him a sandwich on bread that Dan had never made a sandwich with before he met Sam. He knew Sam would keep the healthiest and best on-his-budget ingredients for snacks and small meal-type foods, but knowing something and being subject to it were two entirely different things. Sam made the best sandwiches Dan had ever had, and he only blamed half of that on the taste.

 _ **“That’s what I’m going for. Isn’t it obvious?”**_ Sam teased, letting Dan lead the way to sit on a brick lip in the square, so Dan could keep an eye on the kids. Dan trusted the parents to do their jobs, but he was doing his job and he was doing it alone. Dan leaned over and kissed Sam’s cheek before taking his first bite, sighing contentedly and letting the moment sink in for a long moment. He kept his eyes forward, leaning over and bumping Sam with his shoulder. He thought for a long time, considering whether or not he wanted to, or if he could, voice what he really wanted to say.

Sam stared at him, trying to make something of the silence, and Dan wondered if that pounding was coming from his chest or Sam’s.

_**“Plain as day.”** _

But Sam wasn’t stupid.

 _ **“You don’t have to say it for me to know. And I do. Know,”**_ Sam’s eyes were on his sandwich. Dan wasn’t sure who was more thankful for the veil over the vulnerability that speaking to each other like this was giving the both of them. Regardless of who was more thankful, Dan’s face got hot and he nodded despite Sam not looking at him.

“I know,” A pause. That wasn’t good enough for Dan. He’d spent his entire life running and taking the easiest, most painful route, and while he wanted to shirk away and accept that Sam knowing was enough, it wasn’t, and Sam was lying to himself and Dan when he said Dan didn’t have to voice this. But he did. More than anything, he did. He’d been wondering for some time now when would be a good time, an appropriate time when normal people said it, but they weren’t normal people and he’d never felt for anybody this way before.

He cleared his throat and reached for Sam’s right hand with his left, the fingers holding his sandwich digging into the bread, lodging crumbs under his nails.

“Sam?”

“Mhm?” Sam hummed, mouth full of the bite he’d taken - that Dan hadn’t noticed that he’d taken. Dan glanced at him and the crumbs at the corner of Sam’s mouth and his doe-eyes and the way a strand of his hair had fallen into his face and he knew he was a fool for waiting past the first date, decorum be damned.

“I do love you, you know?” Dan’s lips turned in a way he hoped didn’t look like he was uncomfortable, going more for reassurance and being all too self-aware that it was the former. Sam’s eyes upturned, framing his eyes in the most puppy dog fashion Dan had ever seen from another person, and he swallowed the food in his mouth hard, wiping the corners and coughing, clearing his throat. Dan wanted to laugh, feeling only a little sympathetic that he’d chosen that exact moment to say the words, but thankful for the weight that was lifted from his shoulders. Sam laughed when his mouth was finally cleared of obstruction.

“I- I wasn’t expecting that- I thought maybe you’d say it in. In there, but,” He shrugged and straightened his back as if refusing to seem unsure in his response, “I love you, too, Dan. I really thought I’d say it first, honestly.” His hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing anxiously and skimming the nape of his neck.

Dan laughed and put the uneaten half of his sandwich back in its baggie, losing interest in it in favor of the sweet boy beside him. He looked up, ready to kiss the man, but Sam beat him to it. He had to give him that, stealing his victory in the intimate vulnerability race, so he only raised his hand to caress Sam’s cheek and kiss him back. Tenderness met tenderness and children’s parents threw curious and bewildered glances in their direction.

_**“I gotta get back to work, dear.”** _

_**“Can I stay?”**_ Dan chuckled against his lips, pulling away and pecking them once, twice.

_**“Always.”** _

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

The free and liberal use of shine was quickly becoming a regular part of Sam’s day, and, thankfully, Dan’s once more. Of course, he minded his business, but he didn’t feel the need to stifle it, tread carefully. He’d only done his best to respect Sam and his privacy, as he would want. He never pushed, only allowed anything he received to be received with welcome instead of anxiety. Before, he’d tried with all of his might to keep Sam’s thoughts private, but now that they’d sat and talked about it and discussed boundaries and Sam was getting better at controlling his shine, he was more comfortable.

That being said, he now had every single nightmare Sam had, and Sam had all of his. After two weeks straight of Lucifer and Jack Torrance and Yellow Eyes and Mrs. Massey haunting the pair, torturing them in unspeakable and abhorrent ways, the two looked a little worse for wear. Sam tried his best to wear a smile, but the bags under his eyes and the spike in his already constant fidgeting attested to the lie that the smile was. Eye contact was becoming more and more uncomfortable for Dan again, and he had to remind himself, urge himself not to go silent.

Nightmares weren’t something he was used to, not having them as often anymore, but having Sam’s as well triggered his own and it had become a cycle for both men. He’d begun staying awake during the day when he was meant to be sleeping, simply to avoid Jack, avoid The Overlook once more, and now, avoid Sam’s demons as well. The habit of falling asleep at his desk on particularly slow nights at the hospice, when Sam was asleep in his bed and clenching the sheets he was sweating through, formed quickly thereafter. He didn’t mention any of this to Sam, but he knew. He knew and he felt guilty, feeling that it was his fault or responsibility somehow.

It took days of Dan racking his brain for a solution and too much coffee than could be at all healthy before he gave up. He was laying in bed at four in the afternoon, staring at the ceiling, when he called Abra. He was too exhausted to reach her in the normal, effortless way they’d grown accustomed to doing, so the dial tone rang in his ear for nearly a minute before she answered.

He felt bad for calling her after all but ignoring her for days, not having the energy to talk to her, much less take her out on the weekend like he usually liked to do, but he’d have to suck it up.

“Uncle Dan? Are you okay?” Despite his MIA status, she was worried about him more than anything and he very nearly let out the tears he’d apparently been holding in for who knows how long. He inhaled deeply and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I’m alright. Abra, I’m really sorry for the last several days,” He started, voice level because it had to be, “But I was wondering if you could help me with something? I hate to ask, but I’ve hardly slept in days and- and I can’t think straight.”

He could hear Abra shifting and sitting up, papers shuffling against the fabric of her bed comforter. He’d interrupted her homework and that was another thing to feel bad about. He wanted to curl up and pull the curtains to and lock the door.

“What do you need, Uncle Dan?”

“I can’t think of a way to stop this- I keep having Sam’s nightmares, and- and he’s having mine and it’s just a cycle and I. I don’t know.”

He resented the break in his voice as much as he resented the face of his father and Mrs. Massey morphing into one and hovering over him. He squeezed his eyes closed and his mouth pinched into a scowl as he took the bridge of his nose between his fingers and massaged the spot, willing the imagery away. The feeling of hands on him where they shouldn’t be.

Abra was understanding and patient with him throughout the duration of the phone call, not getting short or irritated with him when he lost focus or couldn’t complete a thought fully. He hadn’t realized while on the phone how long it had lasted, but afterwards, seeing a daunting number (only an hour and a half) made him feel bad for distracting her from her homework all over again. She’d quieted his mind, at least a little bit. She’d helped him come to a tangible and smart solution to the problem at hand and he was more than thankful to have her.

While the solution was smart, it spiked his anxiety in a completely new way. The thought of having to open up like this, and not exactly on his own terms, shook his foundation and brought the realization of things he’d chosen to ignore in favor of leaving the past in the past straight to the front of his brain. It wasn’t like he was completely unaware of these things, he had no choice but to be aware of them, but making Sam aware of them and Sam seeing that part of his childhood left a bad taste in his mouth.

Sam.

Kind Sam. Warm Sam. Loving Sam. He’d understand. He’d understand like Dan understood Sam’s past. He knew that, he really did, but the fear of pity or judgement was there nonetheless.

Thank fuck it was his weekend off.

He pulled himself out of bed and sighed, stretching and wincing at his lower back popping from a lack of movement over several hours. He did his business in the bathroom and didn’t bother examining the severity of his eye bags in the mirror as he passed it by. His beard was more overgrown than he’d prefer, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed later. Dan considered putting something more on than the white tee and boxers he was wearing, but opted out, not having the energy or even the interest to do so. He slid his bare feet into his blue slippers and left his phone behind as he locked the door behind him, making his way downstairs.

Every step closer to Sam’s door made his feet feel heavier. They dragged on the last few steps.

He didn’t raise his fist to knock, clenching it around the single key he had to carry for his room. He’d heard Sam’s footsteps approaching the door at the same time as his, hesitating at the knob before it slowly turned.

When the door opened, they eyed each other, eyes weary, hair almost equally mussed and unwashed. Dan suddenly wanted to hug Sam more than he ever had, and with that want came the wonder if they’d ever hugged, cut short by the wrapping of arms around him and squeezing him firmly. He sighed into it, burying his face in Sam’s shoulder as Sam did the same. He pushed his hand up into Sam’s hair, holding the back of his head and digging his fingers gently into his back.

Sam was crying. It took Dan a few moments to realize they both were, but silent sniffles from himself and soft hiccups from the younger man joined each other. It shouldn’t have calmed him so effectively, but it felt nice to release it with no worry, just standing there and holding each other and feeling safe. His fear from before passed quickly as he rubbed Sam’s back and scratched his scalp in slow circles, appreciating the digging of fingers into his own back, lower and between his shoulder blades.

 _ **“Are you okay?”**_ He asked, voice soft even inside. Sam nodded against him, sighing deeply and Dan could feel the wet spot in his shirt before Sam could pull away. When he did, though, Dan’s hands found Sam’s cheeks and wiped the wetness away gently and without judgement. He doubted he looked any better, eyes warm and puffy, cheeks cold against the air. Dan memorized the way Sam leaned into his hands and held his wrists.

Sam’s hands pushed up from his wrists and cupped his hands, sighing.

 _ **“Can we talk, Sammy?”**_ Dan asked, inner voice softer, worried, and his throat tightened as Sam gulped softly. The taller man nodded, hands still over Dan’s. Dan glanced around and led Sam to the bed, sitting down and taking his hands, pulling him gently to sit next to him. Dan sighed, but his voice stayed inside, stayed soft and caring.

 _ **”I- I talked to Abra. About the- Well, you know,”**_ Dan said, somehow just as ashamed and embarrassed as he would be speaking about this aloud. He felt a wave of shame wash over Sam as well, licking up his spine and making him squirm where he sat. Dan’s back ached, exhaustion reminding him of his age for days in a row. He squeezed Sam’s hands, hoping to offer comfort.

_**”I kept our business as ours, but. But I needed help, help figuring out how to fix this. And I think we figured something out, but- Sammy, I don’t want to do it unless you’re completely comfortable.”** _

Sam’s face screwed up in tired confusion, blinking slowly, ”You think there’s a way to make it stop?”

The hope in his voice broke Dan’s heart. He nodded and sighed softly, taking a hand away to push his own unwashed hair out of his face, trying his best not to express the distaste at the texture.

“I think so. I think if- if we address the memories, if we shoulder them for each other willingly, then it’ll help.”

The words were hopeful, but the shame kissing his vertebrae was his own now. Sam felt it, he could see it on his face, could see him shift. Consideration and thought passed back and forth over Sam’s face, and he straightened his back like Dan had come to realize meant he was making a decision or sizing something up. This was both. Sam knew what this meant and what it included.

Dan averted his eyes, letting them fall to their hands, thumbing over the back of Sam’s.

“If you’re scared, you don’t have to be. I’m terrified,” Dan admitted, hoping that that it would help disperse the feeling to voice it, “And if it makes it easier, if- if you want, I can show you how to push?”

Sam seemed to relax, wary of the ordeal but obviously leaning towards it in the hopes of it mending this.

“Push?”

After several minutes of walking Sam through creating a room, just a simple room with a door, Dan pushed his way into Sam’s mind. Sam jerked and Dan squeezed his hands, eyes shut, nose and corners of his eyes crinkling.

The room was small, nearly bare except for a tv and a bed, a few shelves on the grey walls to hold odd books leaning against each other. It smelled like Sam, and Dan inhaled deeply, sighing and shaking his hands where he stood, feeling it in his wrists in the real world.

“It’s my room at the bunker,” Sam informed him softly, breath fanning over Dan’s face briefly from where Sam laid on his side, the two mirroring each other on the bed. Dan smiled, sitting on the bed and running his hand back and over the cover. It was soft, not the kind of material or fabric that your hands or feet could catch on when you moved underneath it. Like the one on Sam’s bed in Frazier. Dan inhaled and closed his eyes, not bothering forming a room. He was more comfortable, ready for the impending terror he was sure to feel regardless of his comfort.

“I’m ready when you are, Sam,” he mumbled, patting Sam’s hand weakly, “It’s not as cold as it looks, I promise.” He tried to joke, the effort falling flat. Sam pushing his way in was similar to Abra, similar to Rose, but entirely different. It was softer, more understanding and purposeful.

“A maze, Danny?” Sam teased, fingers tapping against Dan’s hand of their own accord. Dan nodded against the pillow, pushing fear down. He could feel Sam’s footsteps as he turned in place, sizing up the greenery and the snow. He could feel the boxes, the ones that were occupied, shake and tremble desperately.

“What are these?” Sam asked curiously, and Dan knew he was crouching down to study them. Before his hand could make contact with the wood, Dan cleared his throat.

“I’ll tell you later. After.” Sam nodded and stood, hand wiping down his front.

“This feels…”

“Weird?” Dan offered, but before he could apologize, Sam spoke up.

“Natural. I thought- Well, I thought I was going to feel… Violated? Or like I was violating you?” Sam shook his head and sighed, and Dan warmed from his face to his hips.

“Never, Sammy.”

“It feels nice. It’s just different,” He settled on it, and Dan couldn’t help but agree. The room he was sitting in was cozy and he was almost entirely positive that whatever lies beyond the door to his left held something more pleasant than the maze he’d grown so used to. He stood and approached the door, wiping his hands down the sides of his pants.

The texture under his palms amused him. He didn’t know how or why he was fully clothed in here, as he was still in only boxers and a tee-shirt where he lay in Sam’s bed. He assumed it was likely something to do with modesty, taking a note from Sam’s original fear of some form of violation in this intimacy. Maybe this is just how he saw himself, or how Sam saw him.

Before his hand could wrap around the doorknob, he and Sam braced. He brought his hand to Sam’s face, palm over his cheek in the same second that it did the doorknob.

“Are you ready?” Sam nodded under his hand, and Dan could hear the crunch of snow under tentative boots.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

It was a library, and based on the atmosphere, Dan would guess that it also belonged to the bunker. He wondered if Sam’s collection changed over time, or if it was always a library just at different times of his life. Public libraries on the road, the Stanford college library, the bunker. He wandered around for several minutes, fingers grazing across the spines of books lining shelves. Some of the books were in different languages or so old that he could see frayed thread sticking out from behind the spines. He looked up at the ends of the aisles and noticed there were sections, an associated based organization in Sam’s own unique way.

Dan strolled down the aisle marked “Hunting,” scanning over the titles and smiling when there was a familiar name of a monster or even a location relating to a hunt Sam considered significant or important. He pulled a book titled _Dragons_ from the shelf and opened it. It flipped open from the middle despite there being scribbles and writing on each page that passed. Dan’s eyes glazed over as the single memory held in the book flashed before him quicker than should have been possible for him to absorb any of it coherently. He scrunched up his nose upon finding out that dragons apparently looked like people.

“That’s disappointing,” He mumbled to himself, but he wasn’t entirely surprised. He figured that if dragons were as they are in fairytales, he would have seen one by now. The thought made him freeze. Had he ever unknowingly met a dragon?

“I doubt it,” Sam muttered, snow crunching beneath his feet. Dan laughed, realizing that _of course_ Sam would still be able to hear him.

“Do all monsters look like people?” Dan asked, slotting the book back into its spot, continuing his casual, procrastinating stroll. He felt Sam shrug, his own shoulders tugging with the movement.

“Most of them were people at some point, or still are sometimes. Some have been monsters for so long they no longer look human and some are only human-passing because of magic, others because they’re just inhabiting a human vessel. There are a lot that just look like animal hybrids, though,” Sam explained smoothly. Dan nodded and pulled another book, the title on the spine red instead of the white lettering on most of the other books. _Rawheads_.

He opened the book and let it flip through as the last one did, showing quick glimpses of some disfigured monster in a basement, a man who had to have been Dean, children being ushered upstairs, electricity, fear, panic. The moment Dan realized he’d just seen Dean die, he slammed the book closed. He blinked and furrowed his brow, swallowing hard and reshelving the book and continuing on.

“I don’t like rawheads,” Sam admitted, and Dan caught a glimpse of a door without a number out the corner of his - Sam’s - eye. There was only silence behind the door, Dan knew. He’d spent hours, days, inside his own head taking special care with each and every door and where they were, as much as he could. If he couldn’t box memories, he could make them harder to get to. He could feel leaves brushing his fingertips and smiled.

“I don’t think I do, either. What are they?” Dan asked, knowing talking would offer Sam something, a small stimulus that would help him focus on the task at hand. His hands, his real hands, were fidgeting between Dan’s, and his feet were restless in small movements against the bed.

“They hang out in basements and cellars and lure children down to eat. Nearly invincible, but electricity will do them in,” Sam hummed softly, as if remembering what Dan had just witnessed. He didn’t need to ask to know. It had never and will never get easier for Sam to see Dean get hurt. Dan wondered what that was like, to have a sibling growing up, someone to be there for you when nobody else was.

Could he consider Tony a sibling? Did Tony count as a real person? He figured he did. He knew he was Tony, but it just didn’t feel like a valid observation. He still called for Tony in his sleep. What a lonely childhood for him to consider himself a sibling. He disregarded the thought and looked around, the library seemingly stretching on for miles. He could see a door on the far end, something big and steel-grey and bolted heavily. He noted it and looked at aisle labels, looking for the color red and letting them catch his eye.

“Do you mind if I start looking? For- For what we’re here for? I’ll tell you how to g-get to the doors you’re looking for,” Dan offered, voice suddenly unsure and showing it. He swallowed the tightness as well as he could manage, nearly choking on it. A hand on his shoulder, sliding up his neck and resting there, calmed him but not as much as he would have liked.

“Are you ready?” Sam asked, voice just as unsure and wavering. Dan nodded and could feel his fingers against his jaw, “Where are they, Danny?”

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam’s boots crunched their way down the aisles of the maze slowly, fingers grazing over frost-bitten leaves and sometimes catching on the frames of doors. He disregarded most of them, knowing they had no purpose to currently serve for the goal at hand, but when Dan gave him directions to follow, he pushed onward for only a few moments before a door caught his attention. The doorframe was light blue compared to the creme colored frames around each door up to this point. The door felt different. Important.

He opened it and it swung open by itself.

_**“Do you know how I knew your name was Doc?”**_

Sam watched the older man, someone he knew to be Dick Halloran without knowing exactly how he knew, speak to a young boy. The kid looked sweet, with shaggy, straight brown hair and brown eyes and full cheeks. He couldn’t have been older than five. He watched the boy shake his head and the rest of the conversation was given to Sam in informant flashes, like he was absorbing it without having to put the effort forth.

This is when Dan found out what his shine was. Sam stared at the kid, at his Dan, his Danny, and softened. This was at the Overlook, before it all happened, before the hotel happened to the Torrances. Sam stepped back and pulled the door closed with him, eyes on little Danny until it was no longer possible. He thought of brown eyes where he was used to seeing blue and dug his toe into the snow.

“Dick would have loved you,” Dan said, and Sam kept walking, smiling.

“He seemed nice. I’m glad you had him,” Sam said, and it admitted things Dan already knew but was happy to be reminded of. He didn’t need to return the sentiment.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Listening to Sam witness when Dan had met Dick felt like a memory was organically surfacing on its own, and for the first time in years, maybe ever, Dan didn’t allow the memory to be tainted by the months that followed. He was walking slowly towards a red aisle, the label only being the word _Ruby_ and Dan knew where it would lead to.

When Dan gave Sam directions, a thin, red line appeared on the floor. He assumed it led to and through key memories, the ones he needed to see. While he still questioned the logic behind this, for lack of a better term, exercise, he reasoned that closure and addressing one’s past is supposed to heal, so maybe this was exactly the thing that needed to be done. He hoped so.

He stared down the aisle and glanced at the line on the floor. It zig-zagged down the aisle and he sighed, deciding to feel his way through. He knew Sam was doing something similar. There was a pull. The pull was there for a reason.

Dan looked at the titles and chose Revelations* after glancing back to it several times, walking past it and trying to give the other titles a chance. When he opened it, he had the quickest Previously On montage flicker behind his eyes, catching half second glimpses that were all within the year - give or take - before the memory. The memory itself moved slower, but not slow enough that Dan would be able to, at all, remember a single detail if it were a video. But it wasn’t and he did. He felt power, guilt, betrayal, withdrawals. Saw a brunette woman get held in an almost-headlock by a younger Sam and stabbed by Dean. Light. He didn’t blink, but it felt like he did when Sam and Dean were suddenly in an airplane.

He wondered why some of the memories were from Sam’s eyes and why others were in some watery third person perspective. He let the memory sink in and closed the book, feeling hurt and lost as if he was the one Ruby betrayed. He didn’t have to imagine the mourning Sam went through silently for weeks after losing Ruby, nor the guilt for mourning. He wanted to hold him.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam muttered directions to himself, choosing not to comment on the memory Dan had chosen. It was the one he was meant to, that was obvious, but it stung. He felt a bitterness on the back of his throat, but not for Dan.

He turned left, left again, right, straight to the end of the row, stopped. He got to the first of the worst, in Dan’s words, doors sooner than he thought he would. He took a deep breath and hoped Dan wouldn’t relive this as thoroughly as he feared he would and opened the door before he could convince himself not to.

This one didn’t go by as quickly. The room was dim, as well as the imagery. It felt like an ink blot on a wet piece of paper. He could hear a young child and smell beer and whiskey. A glass fell, somewhere nearby, and it was so loud that Sam flinched away from it. The smell of beer was stronger now and what looked like a smattering of papers across a desk was what the bottle rolled across before hitting the ground and shattering. Not before thoroughly soaking through most of the papers.

Fear. His vision became clear just in time to feel himself jerked up by a man, thin black hair across his head and a heavy five o’ clock shadow over his face, breath stinking of alcohol. Sam whimpered when he was pulled up by his arm and jerked to the side, the man’s knee jutted out like he was going to spank Sam, but instead, with the jerk of his arm, Sam screamed. A crack and a splinter of pain shooting up his arm and into his shoulder and down his side as he was dropped to the floor. A woman came running in, voice shrill and worried, and he was scooped up.

Sam blinked and was standing in the doorway again, tears of pain and confusion running down his face with an arm that ached like a shadow. He closed the door and stood with his back to it, taking a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked, a strain in his voice only slightly apparent to the other man. Sam pushed his hair out of his face and nodded.

“Are you?” He asked in return. Dan chuckled and Sam didn’t fault him for it.

“I’m fine,” Dan hummed, but he was standing in place and Sam knew he was saving face. He spread his fingers where they lay against Dan’s neck, sighing and walking forward, only then feeling Dan take a step as well.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan did his best to remind himself to breathe. It was only going to get worse from there, and he had underestimated the feelings that lurked between pages and behind doors.

He trailed his way through and down aisles, the red line threading around but never leading to a single book for several minutes. He wasn’t looking to rush, but he didn’t see any reason to stall and extend the experience if it wasn’t necessary.

The line led him down an aisle labelled Family, and there were more names and books than he’d expected. Every book was leaned against each other, worn and faded covers. The names on the spines were in different scripts, most on one shelf with four on the shelf below it. Dean, Jack, Castiel, and.

Dan stared at the fourth book and felt his chest tighten, sighing and running his finger over his own name. He was tempted to open it, to see himself through Sam’s eyes, but he pulled his hand away, wiping a hand over his warming cheeks. His eyes fell back to Dean, the name in red. Dan didn’t have to guess why, but he stayed true to their goals and pulled the book from the innermost corner, letting the other three slump to the left in its absence.

He opened the book and he was taller, higher and pushed up against a wall in a dark room, a woman standing in front of him. Voices were muddled, but the doors flew open and within a few seconds, Dean was dragged to the floor and his torso was shredded open by something Dan couldn’t see at all. Growling, screaming, and the sound of flesh tearing filled the room and he was by Dean’s side and pulling him into his arms before he knew it. He could feel blood soaking through his shirt and tears streaming down his face, his stomach wrenching at the smell. Dean’s eyes were open and glassy where he rested on the floor, almost peacefully-

Dan closed the book on his thumb, taking in a deep breath and shuddering, the hairs on the back of his neck raising. He couldn’t help but wonder if Dean had the scars still. He doubted it. His face didn’t have any scars and Dan was skeptical that they’d been hunters their entire lives without sustaining a single facial injury. He shook the thought away and sighed deeply, preparing himself.

When he opened the book again, there were countless flashes of Dean dying repeatedly, and Dan felt like he was witnessing a television show while simultaneously living it, if only due to the quick succession of the scenes before him. He felt dizzy.

Dan took a deep breath, knowing it was in his real body instead of Sam’s inside the book. Images turned to emotion, feelings of physical pain and failure and disappointment. He could hear Sam’s voice echoing and begging for forgiveness to a wall in a broken confessional. The desperation in Sam’s voice vibrated through his own chest and he could feel them on his lips, sobbing in the darkness of a confessional and admitting his greatest sin: letting down the person he loved the most.

The book ended there, and Dan was under the impression that the books he chose would only show him what was necessary, only the things he was there to seek out. Not in these books. Maybe some other time he’d get to peruse the library for what it was and Sam could look through doors Dan considered pleasant.

Dan replaced the book on the shelf and thumbed over the frayed edges, the book looking softer and as worn as the names on the shelf above. He knew he didn’t know Dean well, not yet, but he felt like he was mourning him despite seeing him just weeks before, knowing full well that he was alive and likely at the bunker. He was growing used to the ache in his chest already, and he so wished this was over so he could hold Sam instead of going through and putting the younger man through this. Sam didn’t speak to him this time.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam stared at the door, stared at the number plate. 237. He nodded to himself, knowing only glimpses of the number, of the woman behind the door. He reached his hand out to enter, but the knob turned on its own and the door creaked open. Sam stared at the dingy yellow light shining through the gap. He could feel the need to wiggle his hands at the wrists make itself known and he, for lack of a better term, swallowed that need down and ignored it, his hand trembling regardless as he pressed his fingers to the door and pushed it open.

He ignored images filtering through from Dan, residuals from his own mind pushing to the front as he pushed himself through the doorway and stepped into the living area of the hotel room. The garish, green carpet was hard to focus on, so he looked around the room instead, eyes catching on the wide doorway to the bathroom with a pulled-to shower curtain. He wiped his hands down his jeans and took a deep breath, approaching the doorway warily. His fingers twitched as if they missed the safety of a gun in his hands.

Sam was only two steps into the bathroom when the curtain pulled back, a naked woman standing and revealing herself from behind it. He suddenly felt smaller, looking up at the woman instead of down on her as he had been a moment before. In the same instance, the woman was no longer young and taut, instead waterlogged and rotting as she got closer and closer to Sam, to Danny. His chest pounded and he took a step back, or tried to but he was frozen in place and hyperventilating. The smell was nearly overwhelming, but still not enough to get his small feet to move.

Sam stood there as a hand wrapped around his throat and thoughts of death and ending ran through his mind. He was scared to end. He wanted Tony. He wanted Mommy or Daddy. He wanted Dean. He wanted Dan. The woman flickered, but not like ghosts flicker.

Mrs. Massey was Jack Torrance. Jack Torrance was Mrs. Massey. But neither was the other. Sam couldn’t swallow past the hand squeezing around his throat. He could feel his face turning purple and he couldn’t even fight the woman- his father, Danny’s father. He was dropped to the ground just as his vision went black and he was laying in the middle of the living area, the shower curtain pulled to once again.

His hand shot to his throat, pressing on bruises that weren’t there as he gasped and coughed, making his way to his feet and stumbling to the door, slamming it behind him. The door locked itself behind him and standing in the maze felt twice as surreal as before.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan couldn’t help the pause in his steps when his throat got tight, clearing his throat and coughing, suppressing his eyes’ instinct to well up. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and turned around, looking behind him and finally taking notice that all of the aisles he’d already passed had dimmed and the red line only streamed in front of him. It led down one final aisle and to the door, the steel door. He was much closer to it now, and being near it was enough to put a weight on him unlike any of the books. With this weight, there was a dragging pull and black flies.

He veered off and made his way to the next book instead. He pulled it from the shelf without looking at the title on the spine.

_**”This wasn’t supposed to happen.”**_

It smelled like a hospital, and Dan couldn’t see anything. He could hear the echo of Dean’s voice and the beeping of machines nearby.

He blinked and it was night and he was in the passenger seat of Dean’s Impala. He looked over to Dean as he spoke, but he felt skeptical nonetheless. Dean was telling him they were them and they would pull through, right as day. He told him he didn’t believe him in Sam’s voice.

“We are in your head, and you’re in a coma and are dying.”

Dan’s stomach dropped and he swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, he was sitting across from an unfamiliar man in the living room of an unfamiliar home.

“If I go with you… Can you promise that this time it will be final? That if I’m dead, I stay dead,” His mouth was moving on autopilot and it was still Sam’s voice. His tears were his own, streaming from his eye to the dip in his nose and off the tip, landing on the pillow and the open book at the same time. The frail man across from him assured Sam that he could, in fact, make such a promise, and for the first time in years, Sam felt relieved.

Sam - Dan - stood up when the man did. It was time, he said. He started to follow him, acceptance forming a warmth in his chest.

“Hold on.”

Dan’s head jerked to look at Dean, confusion setting in just in time to flash forward, the layers of memories stacking on top of each other like a flip book, only this time being linear and mostly coherent. Save for the gaps of blackness interspersed throughout. It came full stop when he could see through Sam’s eyes, but Sam was only seeing through his own eyes as well, fully powerless. There was somebody else. Sam was being possessed.

Sam was being possessed and the eyes of the boy under Sam’s hand were burning out in a white hot blaze, body slumping and hitting the floor. He saw a glimpse of Dean before the book closed and fell to the floor. He lifted his hand to his cheek and could hear crunching snow again, could feel Sam’s hand move slowly before his thumb settled on Dan’s eyelid, grazing over it gently.

“Sammy?” He asked, voice smaller before he cleared his throat. Sam put his hand over Dan’s and patted it.

“It’s okay, Danny. We’re gonna be okay,” Sam promised him. His voice was tight, lips pulled thin and worried on his cheeks.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Sam came out of the second to last door as the book fell from Dan’s hand. All that was behind the door was little Danny standing in front of a mirror, staring at himself. Willing himself.

He felt dejected standing there, and he could hear cartoons and the giggle of a woman. He stared at himself in this small body in the mirror, made eye contact with himself, rich, brown doe eyes fading to a cool shade of blue.

Sam hadn’t meant to, but he fell back from the mirror, hand over his chest. He left the room and touched his eyelid, sliding his hand up from Dan’s neck to the side of his face and thumbing over his eyelid as well, like a kiss.

The next door, the final door, was in the middle of the maze. He didn’t know how he’d gotten to the middle as quickly as he had, but at the same time it felt like he’d been here for years. On the way to the final door, he passed another with a hanging door number, the plate hanging on one screw. He considered it, regarded it respectfully, but he fully felt like he wasn’t meant to go in. So he passed it, only glancing back at it once over his shoulder.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan stopped in front of the steel door, wringing his hands in front of him. An added pressure told him that Sam was doing the same, as well as little taps behind the shell of his ear where Sam’s hand rested.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

The door in front of Sam looked cracked and wrong. The paint was peeling from it and he ran his fingers down and felt the strips of crispy paint against the tips. He pulled his hand away and wrung his hands, as touching the door felt just as wrong as it looked.

He knew what was coming. The talk. What happens after the talk. Jack Torrance is what happened after the talk, he knew that much for sure, he had seen enough glimpse in the nightmares that knocked over the dominoes that led him to stand in front of this exact door. They were meeting each other’s hell.

He knew that Dan knew what was behind the door he was standing in front of as well. The thought was very nearly a comfort. He wished it was nearer.

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

Dan and Sam surfaced at the same time, words in different voices ringing in their ears and heads. Dan had covered his face with both hands, fingers tight and legs pulled up towards his stomach as far as they could. He thought he was going to vomit or pass out, from the pain and the shame alike, but Sam was up and out of the bed and over the toilet before the thought could come to fruition. He was sore and hot, bones feeling like they’d been broken and healed just to be broken again, but he stumbled out of the bed and into the dark bathroom.

He crouched down, pulling Sam’s hair out of his face and holding it for him, face pressing against his shoulder in the process.

“I know. I know, baby. It’s okay, Sammy. We’re okay, it’s gonna be okay,” Dan chanted softly, almost silently, lips pressing to the shirt hugging the bigger man's frame. Sam grabbed for the hand towel on the sink, wiping his face and sobbing into the fabric before he turned into Dan’s arms. He all but gathered Dan up, pulling him closer than Dan thought he’d be comfortable with. His knees slid across the floor of the bathroom and he choked small sobs of his own into Sam’s shirt once again.

Despite this, despite the tears and the whimpers and the smell of throw up, they both felt more okay than they had in a long time. Too long to be considered even close to fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, leave a kudos and a comment! They make my day every single time I get one haha.
> 
> Insta: tcnyyy, rrrenton  
> Twitter: VO1Drent  
> Ko-Fi: dumbheathen

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm terrible at author's notes so bare with me, please. I adore comments, so feel free to leave whatever you want ayeee.
> 
> Playlist!!: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4FB3F9NKNHIpxmIFaVI1Nm?si=UxrzFloMQhOimkzn-hjc_Q
> 
> ko-fi: dumbheathen  
> insta: tcnyyy  
> discord: azzie#0166  
> twitter: VO1Drent


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